Potion Fumes and Cauldron Leaks
by usignolo
Summary: When Dumbledore decides to bring back the centuries-old Hogwarts tradition of assigning apprentices to the school's professors, Severus Snape finds himself confronted with having a certain know-it-all invade his beloved potions lab. To his own dismay, however, the Dungeon Bat soon encounters some never before seen feelings bubbling in the cauldron that is his heart.
1. A Strenuous Return

**Disclaimer: I don't own the "Harry Potter" book series. The story of "Harry Potter" is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.**

Please note that for the sake of the plot some things have been changed compared to the original timeline of the books. In this story's universe, Voldemort was defeated sometime during the trio's sixth year, and they never dropped out of school to hunt for the horcruxes. How all of this happened is not really relevant. A lot of the characters who died in the books are also still alive, the most obvious being Snape himself. There may be some other changes as well.

This story is going to be veeeery long and drawn out, so get ready for lots of slow burn and fluff. However, if you stick around, there may be some other stuff as well ;-P

If you can spare some time, please do leave me some feedback in the form of reviews down below - I'd be very grateful :-) Enjoy!

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**Chapter 1: A Strenuous Return**

King's Cross railway station was as busy as always on this late Monday morning.

It was noisy and packed as business men in overpriced suits, teenagers skipping their first day of school and backpacking tourists alike were making their way to and from the different platforms. Unintelligible announcements about delayed and cancelled trains were drowned out by an inextinguishable babel of voices and sounds. Strutting towards the station's exit, a group of dressed up suburban moms were on their way to their weekly shopping spree, chatting loudly and pushing overly expensive strollers while at the same time skilfully ignoring their crying offspring. They passed by a group of foreign travellers who were trying to decipher an obsolete folding map. On the other side of the hall, a rather sloppy-looking worker was grumpily cleaning up what seemed to be a spilled strawberry-banana milkshake from the small coffee shop nearby.

In short, no one was paying enough attention to their surroundings to notice a young, petite woman rushing her way through the giant crowd.

Her long brown locks were sticking out in every possible direction as she was quickly moving through the large entrance hall, a small beaded bag in one hand and an old wicker cat carrier in the other. Unfortunately, her furry passenger didn't seem too happy about the bumpy ride and tried to take out his frustration by snatching at any unsuspecting stranger passing by.

Her elegant brown leather boots clacking loudly against the dirty stone floor, she was running with evident urgency. Her loose cherry red dress, which she'd combined with a light blue jeans jacket, was swirling around her pale legs as the girl was stumbling down a broad flight of stairs towards the platforms nine and ten. She bumped into several people, who complained indignantly, but didn't have the time to stop and apologise. She continued to fight her way through the cluster of stressed passengers, sprinting directly towards one of the brick columns separating the two platforms. Clenching her two pieces of luggage, she took a deep breath before running right against it.

But instead of making the expected painful contact, she went right through the sturdy barrier. On the other side, a hidden platform filled with a massive crowd composed of rather oddly dressed people came into sight. The young woman stopped dead in her tracks and took a moment to admire the old train to her left, whose beautiful scarlet engine was already surrounded by thick, opaque white steam. Oh, how she had missed this sight!

Biting her chapped lips nervously, her look darted to the big round station clock overlooking the track: 10.59. She tensed up for a split second just to then abruptly start running again. She yet again battled her way through the crowd, storming towards the vintage train.

She had just jumped on the train when the clock chimed and the door shut behind her, almost losing her footing as the infamous Hogwarts Express pulled out of its secret station.

Her face was flaming red and her chest was aching relentlessly. Breathing heavily, she made her way through the narrow aisle. Her feline friend's carrier, which still had two big ginger-haired paws protruding from its inside, felt painfully heavy in her right hand. She was well aware of the strange looks that were given to her by the other passengers on the train, but she pretended not to notice. She had learnt long ago not to let these kinds of things get to her and therefore chose to elegantly ignore the clearly audible chatter and the countless eyes following her every move as she marched on.

Leisurely, she walked by the see-through partition walls, checking every compartment in the process. Having almost reached the back of the train, she finally found the little booth she was looking for.

Sliding the glass door open, she earned herself startled looks from the adolescents inside. To her right was the famous lanky boy with the pitch-black hair, the round wire glasses and the clearly noticeable scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead. His arm was wrapped around the shoulders of a girl with long red hair and some faint freckles on her nose. Next to the pair sat a boy with the same vibrant ginger hair, his mouth stuffed with chocolate and his seat covered in candy wrappers. On the other side of the compartment, only two of the three velvet seats were taken. One was occupied by a somewhat chubby boy with a brown head of hair struggling to hold onto a squirming soggy toad and the other by a pale blonde with big silvery-grey eyes wearing an interesting assortment of mismatched clothes.

It was that girl with the characteristic dreamy look on her face who exclaimed in a husky voice, "There you are, Hermione! We've been waiting for you."

Hermione Jean Granger smiled brightly at her friends. It felt so good to finally come back home again.


	2. An Unpleasant Surprise

**2\. An Unpleasant Surprise**

Severus Snape snorted in disgust as he was making his way through the cold, dark dungeons he was so familiar with.

He'd left the Start-of-Term Feast as soon as possible. The Potions Master had never been fond of this, in his opinion, redundant tradition, but the headmaster deemed it necessary for all core staff members to attend the festivity. As always, Severus had been disappointed by the new first-year students.

"Just another bunch of prepubescent troublemakers without any appreciation for knowledge and not an ounce of respect for authority," he thought grimly. He surely was going to take great pleasure in showing them why everyone feared the so-called greasy git of the dungeons.

Finally reaching the bizarre painting of a seemingly maniac knight riding a famished donkey, which hung in a hidden corner of one of the most desolate parts of the dungeons, Severus ignored its resident's strident battle cry as he quickly mumbled his secret password before entering his private quarters. Once inside, he removed his thick black robes, revealing an all-white dress shirt.

The time since the war had ended had been good to him. While he continued to be covered in countless scars all over his body, he had gained some much-needed weight and was now filling his clothes out nicely. He had still not fully recovered from all he'd had to endure, of course; but he was physically healthy at least. Unfortunately, regaining his bodily health also meant his scary image had suffered some damage. No longer looking like a haggard dungeon ghoul, the infamous professor could not rely on his ominous, nightmare-inducing dark presence anymore. However, all of that just meant that he needed to work a little bit harder – and be even meaner and nastier – to ensure that those useless brats would show him the respect he deserved.

Severus was just opening the first of the many buttons of his shirt, badly longing for a cold shower after such a long day, when he noticed a small roll of parchment paper tied to a tiny pouch which was lying on his much-loved reading chair. Frowning, he walked over and picked up the little package. The small bag was made of vivid pink silk embroidered with silver sequins along the seam.

"That annoying, stupid old man!" the teacher hissed.

He gingerly separated the colourful sack from the parchment roll and opened it. Several pieces of Dumbledore's favourite candy, sherbet lemon, fell to the floor, some rolling under the plum coloured wing chair.

The half-blood cursed under his breath as he grabbed the paper and unrolled it. The letter read:

_Severus,  
I would like to invite you to an important staff meeting taking place in the Great Hall before breakfast tomorrow. Even though this is last-minute, attendance is compulsory. Undoubtedly, you will be pleasantly surprised by the outcome of this little get-together.  
Your friend,  
Albus Dumbledore  
P.S. I do hope that you enjoy these delicious Muggle sweets as much as I do!_

Snape scowled. A surprise staff meeting was the last thing he needed right now. Crushing a few pieces of yellow confectionery under his heavy black dress shoes, he finally headed to the bathroom, now craving an icy shower more than ever.

Later that night, as he was lying in bed, the black-haired man pondered over the headmaster's invitation again. "Your friend Albus Dumbledore," he whispered. No – the old wizard was wrong.

Severus Snape didn't have any friends.


	3. Reviving Traditions

**Chapter 3: Reviving Traditions**

"I want to thank you all for coming here on such short notice."

Severus watched from the shadows of an alcove as Dumbledore welcomed the gathered staff members to the meeting. Eight professors including himself as well as Madam Pomfrey were present. Talking to his colleagues while they all waited for their employer to arrive, the Potions Master had found out that not every teacher at the school had received an invitation and also that no one, not even those who had gotten one, knew what this unexpected meeting was actually about.

"I am certain that every single one of you is wondering about the nature of this gathering," the headmaster said with a rather cheeky smile. "Well, I have decided that since we now have finally reached a period of peace again, I want to bring back a centuries-old Hogwarts tradition. A tradition that some of you who have been a part of our staff for a long time may still remember."

Severus raised an eyebrow. What crazy thing had the ancient nutter come up with now?

Noticing the professors' confused looks, Dumbledore carried on, "I am talking about a practice which was a significant part of this school's educational history for hundreds of years. However, it unfortunately had to come to an end during one of the darkest times of the First Wizarding War as the whole institution had to focus its forces on stopping Voldemort." Madam Pomfrey and Professor Trelawney both slightly flinched at the sound of that name.

Giving them a sympathetic look, the grey-haired wizard continued, "To cut it short, I have decided to bring back Hogwarts' prestigious apprenticeship programme. This means that every single one of you here today will be assigned a student who is interested in your subject and wishes to further his or her knowledge in that area. Your apprentice is currently in his or her sixth or seventh year. You will accompany them for the rest of the school year and teach them more about your field of study outside of the regular curriculum. This is going to take place at least twice a week during fixed hours; however, you may agree on more meetings. To aid with this, you will all receive your respective apprentice's schedule at the end of this assembly. They may also assist you in teaching the first-, second- and third-year students."

The Dungeon Bat's eyes grew big. He had obviously heard of the apprenticeship programme before, just like anybody else who had thoroughly read Hogwarts: A History. He even seemed to vaguely remember hearing about it taking place during the beginning of his own years as a student. However, it must have been terminated not long after since it definitely hadn't existed anymore during his final year at Hogwarts.

Ignoring the obvious astonishment of everybody present, Dumbledore proclaimed, "And I am especially delighted to announce that for the first time in the history of this school, an apprentice will be assigned to the Hospital Wing! Poppy, your protégé will be the lovely Miss Abbott. As I have heard, she is considering becoming a healer after taking her N.E.W.T.s and would love to aid you in taking care of our students."

While the elderly matron seemed thrilled and yet slightly perplexed about being the first healer to have ever been appointed an apprentice, Severus was still somewhat in a state of shock. There must have been a mistake, he thought. After all, he was very aware of his status as the least popular teacher in the entire school. Even his own Slytherins weren't too fond of their Head of House; at least not enough to voluntarily become his apprentice and therefore being forced to spend even more time with the so-called greasy git.

"Minerva, I think that you will be pleased to hear that Miss Ginevra Weasley has applied to be trained by you. I believe that we are both well aware of her magical abilities – especially in the field of hexes," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. Professor McGonagall herself also seemed quite pleased with her future trainee.

Severus carefully considered all of his Slytherins. But in his opinion, not even Draco Malfoy would willingly become his apprentice.

Meanwhile, the headmaster continued to assign students to the different teachers. "I likewise believe that it doesn't come as a surprise that our dear Mr Longbottom wants to further his education in the field of Herbology, Pomona. I am certain that the two of you will work together quite well. And I also think that you, Remus, will not be surprised to hear that Mr Potter has asked to be under your guidance." The werewolf gave a slight knowing smile in response, while the Head of Hufflepuff had a broad grin on her chubby face, some pieces of food from last night's supper still stuck in her teeth.

The old man carried on in this fashion, assigning the Ravenclaw Padma Patil to Professor Flitwick and her Gryffindor twin sister Parvati to Professor Sinistra, as Severus was still racking his brain trying to figure out who could have possibly requested to be his apprentice. No Gryffindor, that was for sure. And Hufflepuffs, while being obedient, in general lacked the needed backbone to face him.

In the meantime, the wacky Divination professor nodded her head in agreement when Dumbledore declared, "I am sure that you have already foreseen who your mentee will be, Sybill. Miss Brown surely does seem to have a lot of potential as a seer."

Not even the Ravenclaws, known for their thirst of knowledge, would want to further their education in the field of Potions if that meant being tutored by Slytherin's head snake. Snape was rummaging about in the deepest corners of his brain, but he simply couldn't come up with the name of a student who was genuinely interested in his subject while also being brave enough to apply for the position.

"And my dear Hagrid, I am so very happy to say that a student has asked to be further instructed when it comes to your beloved magical creatures. Miss Lovegood seems delighted at the prospect of helping you take care of them." The friendly giant was obviously shocked and overwhelmed to learn that a student was that interested in his famously unpopular subject. Close to tears, the gamekeeper was shaking so much that he had to be held up by a clearly struggling Flitwick.

"And last but certainly not least: Severus!" The half-blood's head shot up, startled by the headmaster calling out his name so suddenly. "Now don't act all surprised, my boy. Somebody has indeed asked to be your apprentice. After all, everyone here knows that Miss Granger never backs away from a challenge," Dumbledore explained with a wink.

Granger! Of course, how could he have forgotten about the insufferable know-it-all herself? Only she would be interested enough in such a complex subject to sign up for a year of forced collaboration with a former Death Eater. Severus groaned – how was he supposed to make it through an entire school year with the irritating Gryffindor Princess as his personal apprentice?!


	4. Inconceivable Choices

**Chapter 4: Inconceivable Choices**

Hermione woke up with a smile that Tuesday morning. It had been so nice to sleep in one of Hogwarts' big, comfy beds again. After years of fighting against the forces of evil, the young witch finally felt somewhat at peace and was looking forward to being able to focus solely on her education for her final year of schooling.

Sitting up, she took a look around her new room. After being appointed as the new Head Girl, she'd been moved from Gryffindor Tower to a smaller private one, from which she could see the Great Lake. Instead of having to share a single room with several other girls, she now had her own suite composed of a cosy bedroom, a luxurious bathroom and a small but sufficient study.

Slipping out from underneath the warm covers of her bed, Hermione wrapped herself in a silky cream-coloured robe before grabbing her treasured Muggle watch from the nightstand; she'd gotten it as a birthday gift from her parents almost two years ago and it'd been her loyal companion ever since. A quick look at it told her that she had woken up almost an hour earlier than usual. Not wanting to go back to sleep, she decided to instead treat herself with a long, hot shower.

After washing her body and giving her messy curls a deep clean, the teenager then used her vine wood wand to swiftly dry both her hair and skin. Afterwards, she picked up a decently sized lime green toiletry bag with big purple dots on it and unzipped it to reveal an assortment of Muggle beauty products, which she'd collected during the summers spent at her parents' home. Making use of the extra time, she fished out a thick, moisturising body butter with a slight peach smell and applied it to her entire body. Next, she moved on to makeup and applied brown mascara, a bit of light pink blush as well as some tinted lip balm to give her face a fresh look. Continuing with her hair, she struggled with taming the wild locks on her head but eventually managed to put them into a cute messy bun. After putting on her beloved uniform – of course, making sure to add her new shiny Head Girl badge – and even using a little magic to make it look absolutely impeccable, she applied some floral-scented perfume as the final step. Grabbing her well-loved school bag stuffed with all sorts of books as always, she then made her way to the first breakfast of her final year at Hogwarts.

"Morning, Hermione," Ron munched just a few minutes later as he stuffed two pork sausages at once into his large mouth.

The girl smiled as she sat down next to her friends at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. While she had never been an admirer of Ronald Weasley's table manners (or lack thereof), she was in too good of a mood today to attempt to correct him. Instead, she gave him a friendly pad on the shoulder before greeting everyone else as well. As she helped herself to some toast with scrambled eggs, Professor McGonagall was fulfilling her duties as Head of House by distributing the individual timetables to each Gryffindor student. Taking a small sip of pumpkin juice, Hermione took a look at hers and saw that it didn't entail any surprises.

"Let's see … Monday starts off with Charms and Potions, then History of Magic and DADA in the afternoon." Her heart skipped a beat, however, when she noticed what her very first period of the year would be: She was scheduled to have an apprenticeship lesson with Professor Snape!

Her look darted to the outer end of the High Table and she instantly wished she'd much rather kept her head down. Because the Potions Master was staring at her with such intensity that his dark eyes seemed to bore right into her soul. His already thin lips were pressed together so tightly that they were barely even visible anymore and that gave Hermione an awfully painful lump in her throat. She had of course known that he wouldn't be ecstatic about the prospect of working so closely with her when she'd first signed up for the apprenticeship programme at the beginning of the summer holidays – but she surely hadn't expected to get such a look of complete and utter hatred from her teacher.

"Perhaps I should have gone with Professor Vector after all," she thought anxiously. Just at that moment, Snape stood up and abruptly turned around to leave the Great Hall, his long black robes whirling around his slim figure almost ferociously.

"Unbelievable! It's the first day of term and the snake is already in a bad mood," said Harry before chewing off another piece of fried bacon.

"Did you really expect anything else from him? He is and will always be an old wanker," Ginny responded, not noticing Hermione's glare at her use of a curse word. "Anyway, what about your timetables? I'm starting off with a double lesson of Charms."

"Harry and I both have a free period. Not bad for the first day!" her brother laughed.

The Muggle-born frowned. "Ron, you should really take your education more seriously. This is your final year, after all! You are aware of the fact that the N.E.W.T.s will be harder than any exam we've ever taken, aren't you?" But the freckled boy only rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to his breakfast.

"I would also have a free period if it wasn't for my apprenticeship," Neville stuttered shyly. "I don't mind that, though. I really enjoy taking care of the plants with Professor Sprout. What about you, Hermione? Did you also apply for an apprenticeship?"

Hermione gulped. She knew that her friends weren't going to be exactly thrilled about the news of their most hated teacher being her new mentor. "Well, Neville, I will indeed train under someone. As it happens, I'm also starting next period," she said, trying to avoid the inevitable.

"Did anybody here seriously even consider the possibility that she wouldn't sign up for the programme? I mean, it's practically made for her! I bet she would work with every single professor if she could," giggled Ginny before turning to her friend who was like the big sister she'd never had. "So, which of them has the honour of tutoring you? It's Babbling, isn't it?"

"Ancient Runes is truly a very interesting subject; but no, I didn't choose _Professor_ Babbling to study under," Hermione said seemingly nonchalantly as she focused her attention on the incoming morning owl post in an attempt to dodge her friend's curious look.

"Who is it then? Burbage? Vector? Oh, don't tell me you chose Binns!" The group of teenagers collectively erupted into laughter.

The brunette sighed. "No, it isn't Professor Binns. As a matter of fact, I –" She took a deep breath. "I have chosen to work with Professor Snape."

"WHAT?!" Even though she'd expected his outcry, Hermione still flinched at Ron's loud exclamation. Every single head in the Great Hall immediately turned to him. "You chose Snape? That greasy git?! Hermione, you can't be serious!"

Harry also had a look of disbelieve on his face. "You do know that you will have to work with him for the entire school year, right? How could you do this to yourself? I know that you're interested in Potions, but it's still Snape!"

"_Professor_ Snape is not only a highly intelligent man and excellent teacher –" She purposefully ignored the revolted looks on her peers' faces. "But he is also an extremely skilled Potions Master. In fact, he is one of the best in his field. Getting the chance to work with him is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity – one that I'm not going to miss out on just because of your dislike of him as a person."

Her best friend shook her ginger head of hair in disbelief. "I know your thirst for knowledge is unquenchable, but I still think you shouldn't have gone with the Dungeon Bat. You know as well as we do that he will treat you poorly just because he has the power to do so! Have you really learnt nothing in the six years you've had to endure his spleen?"

Hermione gave her a slight smile. "I appreciate your concern, Gin, but don't worry! I know Professor Snape can be a bit of a handful at times, but I'm sure that everything will work out just fine. He can't be that bad, can he?" While saying this, however, she still had the image of the dark wizard's furious look in her mind.


	5. The Dungeon Bat's Wrath

**Chapter 5: The Dungeon Bat's Wrath**

Severus stormed into his classroom and slammed the door shut behind him with a loud bang. He was boiling inside.

"That brat!" he spat angrily. Just seeing the Gryffindor Princess enter the Great Hall had already forced him to make use of every single ounce of self-control obtained from years of living as a double spy under the surveillance of the most evil dark wizard of all time – he had wanted nothing more than to just jump up and grab her to try to shake some sense into her petty little mind.

Why on earth would she want to become his apprentice?! Yes, it was true that she was one of the most gifted students in the entire history of this school, and even Snape himself couldn't deny the fact that she had at least some amount of aptitude when it came to brewing potions. But no student in their right mind – not even Little Miss Perfect herself – would ever voluntarily spend two additional hours per week in the cold and dark dungeons just to study one of the most unpopular subjects under the most loathed Hogwarts professor in centuries. Not to mention that he could certainly think of countless other things he would rather spend his time on than being bombarded by her infinite questions.

The Potions Master was pacing up and down. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure that Granger's application must have had some sort of hidden agenda behind it – she did belong to the circle of Potter and Weasley, after all. Those two idiots had probably talked their prudent friend into signing up so that they could play some sort of practical joke on his expense or even steal from his storage room again.

Oh yes, these nitwits might think that they'd gotten away with it, but Severus had definitely noticed some of his bicorn horn and boomslang skin supply – ingredients for the infamous Polyjuice Potion – go missing nearly five years ago. The only reason that they hadn't gotten expelled that very same day was that he hadn't had any distinct proof of their guilt at the time. And even if he'd had that, Dumbledore would have never punished them. That imbecile would have most likely just smiled away their "little shenanigans" since The Boy Who Lived and his cult-like followers were simply too precious to experience any real-life consequences. Damn that old fool! (Severus did have to admit, however, that it was quite impressive for a 13-year-old to be able to brew such an advanced potion. But he would never say that out loud, of course.)

The thought of his ungrateful students made him more irritated by the second. Well, two could play this game. If Granger really wanted to be his apprentice, then he wouldn't make it easy on her. He started to make a mental list of all of the strenuous and tedious tasks he would assign to her. He thought about how he could send her into the Forbidden Forest to collect some much-needed fresh knotgrass or even into the icy cold waters of the Black Lake to gather a few handfuls of those squirming, squidgy flabberghasted leeches. And if that was not enough, she would definitely come to regret her decision once he made her manually extract every last bit of mucus from the three stone flobberworm delivery he was going to receive next week. The former Death Eater even cracked a slight smile at the idea of having her stay up all night to harvest fluxweed, which needed to be picked during full moon to bring the best results.

While thinking about all of the horrible errands he could plan for his unwanted mentee had certainly been able to lighten his mood a little, this quickly changed when his gaze settled on the slip of paper lying on his desk. It was his new apprentice's schedule, which he'd received at the end of the staff meeting this morning, and it acted as an instant reminder that his first lesson with the know-it-all was about to start.

A quick look at his old-fashioned Muggle wristwatch – the one that he always kept well-hidden from both his colleagues as well as his students – told him that it was exactly 9 o'clock. At that very moment, there was a knock at the door. _Punctual as always._ "Enter!" he snarled.

The classroom door opened to reveal the petite figure of Hermione Granger. Severus immediately noticed the Head Girl badge attached to the right side of her grey sweater and he grimaced as he remembered how smug his nemesis James Potter had acted after being appointed to the prestigious position during their final school year almost two decades ago.

"Good morning, Professor," the witch said quietly. "Thank you so much for letting me study under you. I appreciate it greatly."

Snape scowled. "It is not like I had much of a choice," he growled before turning around and strutting towards his desk. Sitting down in his big black leather chair, he beckoned her over with a vague hand gesture.

"Here is how this will work, Miss Granger," he said, looking at her sternly. "I am not delighted by the headmaster's decision to bring back the apprenticeship programme, but there is nothing I can do about it. I can, however, decide how all of this is going to go down." He noticed how the student couldn't quite conceal the nervous expression on her face.

"As my apprentice, I will expect immaculacy from you. You are to come to every single one of our fixed hours as well as any other dates I may set. You will be on time and you will work hard. You may be required to teach the younger students as my assistant at some point during the school year. During those times, you are expected to act just like any other professor here at Hogwarts. As such, you must demand respect and you will have ability to award and deduct house points as well as give detentions to misbehaving students. These detentions will take place in my office under my supervision, but I will require you to be present as well since you were the one who handed them out. As the assistant professor, you are also responsible for the pupils' safety and must ensure that there will be no accidents whatsoever. In addition, I expect you to excel during regular Potions class as well as all of your other classes. I will not accept slacking of any kind from my apprentice, even if said apprentice was forced upon me."

He saw her gulp as he continued, "I sincerely hope that you thought long and hard before applying for this position, Miss Granger – because I will not go easy on you. The art of brewing potions is a particularly delicate craft, something that only few have a talent for and that I take extremely seriously. Now –" he said, ignoring her clearly growing anxiety. "You may start right away. After our lesson, I will be teaching the fourth-year Slytherins and Gryffindors. To start off the new term, they will have to repeat the material that they have already learnt over the past three years. You are to put together an assignment which tests their knowledge and requires them to identify at least two dozen and a half potions ingredients. They shall also have to describe each one's effects when used both correctly and incorrectly. You may sit down over there –" He motioned towards a desk in the front row. "And start."

It took a few seconds before the girl realised that her teacher's speech was over. "Yes, sir," she then mumbled before sitting down at her assigned seat. Severus had to admit that he was rather surprised that she only gave a brief answer instead of harassing him with her annoying enquiries as usual.

For a while, they both worked quietly. While Granger was preparing the examination for her fellow students, the Potions professor was going over his lesson plans once again. He'd already arranged them all during the summer, of course; but there was always room for improvement – he was a perfectionist, after all.

After about twenty minutes of silence only interrupted by the sound of quills moving over parchment paper, the brunette cleared her throat. "I hope that you had a nice summer, Professor," she declared shyly.

Snape was taken aback by her sudden attempt at small talk. "Miss Granger, I assure you that there is no need for making conversation. Do not for a second think that you are in any sort of special position just because you so happen to be my apprentice now."

Hermione turned bright red. "No, no, that's not what I meant! I –, I –" she hastily stuttered. "I didn't –, it's not … I apologise, sir." He saw a look of embarrassment on her face before she hung her head in defeat and continued working. He believed that he could even see her shake a little.

"It's her own fault," he thought grimly. "As a professor, I can still demand some respect – even from a member of the idiotic trio!"


	6. Early Advances Between Dusty Phials

**Chapter 6: Early Advances Between Dusty Phials**

Even though she would have never admitted it to anybody – especially not to her friends or the Potions Master himself – Hermione started to regret being Snape's apprentice relatively soon. After embarrassing herself so severely and barely being able to hold back her tears during their first lesson, it only went downhill from there.

Having to create the start-of-term assignments for all years (except for her own, of course) turned out to be the most pleasant task the teacher had planned for her. After only a few weeks of working under Professor Snape, her back was already in constant pain from crouching over to finely mince hundreds upon hundreds of Alihotsy leaves, her hands were terribly calloused from pestling the rock-like horns of Catalonian Fireballs, and her eyes were reddened and unceasingly burning after spending dozens of hours over bubbling cauldrons while stirring various types of concoctions. Even though she had always loved the art of potion-making and was actually thinking about pursuing a career in that field, she was now questioning whether or not she should continue with the apprenticeship. To make matters even worse, the Quidditch trials had started at the beginning of the second school week which meant that Ginny, Harry and Ron were too busy to spend a lot of time with her. And so only a few days into her final year, the teenager already felt pathetically lonely.

"I just don't understand why he's being so nasty to me," Hermione thought grimly as she made her way from the light-flooded Advanced Arithmancy Studies classroom on the castle's first floor to the bitter cold depths of the dungeons. Earlier this morning, an owl had delivered a note from her tutor to the window of her small suite. It had instructed her to come to his office at 10 a.m., despite the fact that that was her free period.

"I've never had these kinds of problems with any other professor! I mean, not to sound smug, but I'm one the most accomplished students Hogwarts has ever seen – and Head Girl on top of that! Every other teacher is at the point where they almost treat me as their equal, but Professor Snape doesn't even show me an ounce of respect. Why does he have to be so vicious and mean? Unlike Harry, Ron and his 'oh so cherished' Slytherins, I at least put some genuine effort into my work. And yet he still hates me for some reason!" The young witch furrowed her brows as her light steps echoed across the grey stone floor.

"And he's not even taking his job as my instructor seriously! How will hours of scrubbing stinky cauldrons and polishing the classroom's desks help me in becoming better at brewing potions?"

Soon enough, she reached the heavy door leading to the professor's office. Before she had the chance to knock, however, a disgruntled "Enter!" resounded from the room on the other side. Pushing the door open, she caught a first glimpse of the pale man's moody expression. "Great," she thought to herself. "It's not even midday and he's already in a sullen mood. Lucky me!"

"You're late," he snarled before she could even take a step into the room.

* * *

"Late? But it's only two past ten, Professor!" the girl said with a quick glance at her wristwatch.

A look of surprise crossed Snape's face for a millisecond before he was able to mask it. The small Muggle device looked almost identical to the one he had on his wrist at this exact moment; they were both made of the same plain black leather. While most electrical devices did not work at Hogwarts, old-fashioned watches seemed primitive enough to not go haywire around all the magic. He himself had found this out during his own years as a student, but he had yet to encounter anybody else who also knew of that piece of information. So he was genuinely caught off guard.

The Potions Master growled quietly. He was more than irritated with himself over this little surge of emotion. "Don't be foolish, Severus! Sooner or later, some student who grew up in the Muggle world would have been bound to discover this detail. That stupid brat isn't special in any way," he berated himself.

"I do believe my note said ten o'clock, not two past ten."

"Well, yes, but I had Advanced Arithmancy Studies until ten. Even though I left early, it still takes a few minutes to get from the first floor down to the dungeons, sir."

"Aren't you a witch, Miss Granger? As one, being punctual should be an easy task. I do seem to recall a period of time when you were able to attend several classes simultaneously. Yet you cannot arrive on time to a simple meeting?"

He saw her open her mouth to fire back, but he quickly cut her off. "Anyway, it is not my job to teach you basic manners. For your tardiness, I shall deduct ten points from Gryffindor. Now that that's settled, let's move on to the actual reason of why I ordered you here."

She frowned in frustration as he continued. "Yesterday, our _beloved_ gamekeeper decided to introduce the first-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws to a pack of Crups. Interesting creatures, I'll admit; however, he seems to have forgotten to warn them about the beasts' dislike for Muggles beforehand. Two Muggle-born Hufflepuff students, fraternal twins to be exact, wore hand-knitted scarves made by their mother. Irritated by the scent, the alpha male attacked the both of them. Thankfully, they didn't obtain any severe injuries, but they are suffering from concussions and are still slipping in and out of consciousness. Madam Pomfrey has therefore asked me to prepare two fresh batches of Wideye Potion. As this is an urgent matter and the potion already takes a long time to brew as it is, I require your help to speed up the process."

The brunette had a shocked expression on her face. "Two injured students? Why was I not informed of this immediately?! As Head Girl, it is my duty to –"

Severus cut her off. "Lighten up, would you? I am sure that Madam Pomfrey had other things in mind while she was busy caring for those two students. Besides, it would have been unnecessary anyway. What would you have done – go to the infirmary and hold their little hands?"

The young woman was visibly boiling inside but kept her mouth shut. He continued, "I have asked Mr Filch to supervise the students I would have normally taught this period. Since they were given a written assignment and aren't working on a potentially dangerous potion, he should be able to manage. However, this means that the classroom is occupied. I therefore have no other choice than to use my personal laboratory for this task." He could see her hazel eyes light up immediately.

"Don't get any foolish ideas, Miss Granger. This will be a one-time-only occurrence. As you will enter my private chambers, I will expect you to behave accordingly. You will not touch anything or move around freely unless permitted. You will also not mention the fact that you entered my rooms to _anyone_." The wizard made a small pause before carrying on. "We will be using ingredients from my personal storage room, which you shall use sparingly. I will require your help for the first few steps after which the potion has to brew for several hours. Following this, I will perform the final steps on my own and then deliver the bottles myself after dinner. Now, we shouldn't waste any more time. Follow me."

Standing up abruptly, Snape left through the office door and started to make his way through the dungeons' winding hallways. Not once looking back to make sure that his apprentice was still behind him, he soon made a turn and entered a small passageway hidden behind a statue of a famous wizard, who lived during the 17th century. Reaching the unsightly painting leading to his quarters and ignoring the tedious knight living inside it as always, he quickly muttered his password – of course, making sure to be quiet enough so that the witch couldn't hear it. When the frame swung to the side, the both of them entered and found themselves in the teacher's sitting room.

He could see her look wander across the room, and he knew that she must have been taken aback by its appearance. Except for a small open-hearth fireplace and a black wooden door on each wall, every single inch of vertical space was covered in old, battered book shelves, which literally held thousands of literary pieces. Severus had always been a bookworm and while he owned an impressive collection of wizarding books – some of which were rare one-of-a-kind volumes – he also possessed a wide array of Muggle classics. And though he had always been a true Slytherin, the former Death Eater hadn't found it necessary to decorate his quarters in the corresponding colours. Truth be told, there wasn't a splatter of silver or emerald green to be found in any part of his private chambers. The two big wing chairs facing the fireplace were of a deep purple colour and the fuzzy rug on the floor in front of them was midnight blue. The large mirror hanging above the mantel as well as the elegant chandelier lightening up the room with faint candle light were coated in yellow gold. In the back of the sitting room, there was also a navy blue sofa and a small table made of Macassar ebony next to an old-fashioned secretary loaded with dozens of pieces of parchment paper and some ink-smeared quills.

Before the student could take in anything else, Severus ushered her through one of the four doors which led to the Potions Master's pride and joy: his private laboratory. It was a rather cold room, only embellished by the countless phials in all the colours of the rainbow that lined it. Over the years, he'd equipped his workroom with numerous appliances and tools from all over the world, thus making it a potions lab even the most experienced brewers would give a finger for. He kept it immaculately clean too as dust and other forms of dirt could easily distort the ultimate result of a potion. No one, not even the headmaster himself, had ever set foot in this room. And now he was standing here with the insufferable know-it-all. Severus sighed internally.

"Alright, Miss Granger," he said. "We shall start immediately. I am sure that you have had the Wideye Potion recipe memorised since I taught it to you during your third year."

She nodded her head to confirm. "Good. While I will begin by crushing the snake fangs and the Standard Ingredient, I would like for you to heat up the Dried Billywig Stings in that cauldron over there. Remember that since the infirmary is in need of two batches, we will need to double the amount of every single component. You may take the required ingredients from my storage room in the back, but do not touch anything else."

For a short while, they worked in silence. Using an antique mortar obtained during a recent journey to Bulgaria, Severus was so focused on his task that he'd almost forgotten about his student's presence in the room. Once he had finished and looked up, however, he had to gulp. Having taken off her long robes and grey jumper, Granger was biting her chapped lips in concentration as she was standing bent over the bubbling cauldron, which was almost half her size. The first few buttons of her white blouse had been opened and its sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. Due to the heat and steam coming from the boiling potion, her brown locks were clinging onto her forehead as a few beads of sweat were rolling down from her pale face to her slender neck.

The half-blood quickly turned away. It was the first time that he noticed that the girl he had taken a dislike to during the very first lesson he'd taught her was not the same bushy-haired 11-year-old child with the buck teeth anymore. Unbeknownst to him, she had blossomed into an attractive young lady right in front of his eyes.

"Attractive?! She's my student! I must have been lacking female company for a bit too long if I am starting to have impure thoughts about the Golden Trio's Hermione Granger herself," he criticised himself angrily.

"Sir?"

Alarmed, Severus turned around only to stare directly into the widened eyes of the Gryffindor Princess. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you. It's just that I'm done with the Dried Billywig Stings and would now like to add the rest. If you're finished, that is," she said, seemingly a bit out of breath. The wizard noted that her cheeks were slightly blushed.

"Ah, yes, Miss Granger … Go ahead." He frowned at how hoarse his voice suddenly appeared to sound.


	7. Confused Minds

**Chapter 7:**** Confused Minds**

Hermione left the Potions Master's private quarters shortly afterwards. Climbing through the hole in the cold stone wall and ignoring the strange calls coming from the quirky painting, she made her way through the maze-like dungeon corridors as countless thoughts occupied her ever-busy mind.

She was still completely baffled by this morning's events. It had been more than exciting – and frankly a bit scary as well – to see Professor Snape's rooms with her own eyes. It wasn't the first time that she had been inside a teacher's chambers, of course; after all, she and her Head of House had enjoyed one or the other afternoon tea time filled with interesting discussions and even some motherly advice over the years. But her relationship with the Potions teacher – if she ever even had one to begin with – had never been good enough for the two of them to exchange words outside of the classroom, let alone for her to be invited into his quarters. Come to think of it, she couldn't fathom any student setting foot in those rooms, not even every pure-blood's favourite Draco Malfoy himself.

For some reason, she hadn't been surprised by the lack of a Slytherin colour scheme. She'd never taken Professor Snape for someone who would want to excessively show off his affiliation to something. She had, however, been pleasantly surprised by the warm and comfy atmosphere in his sitting room – she could very well imagine spending many delightful hours there, browsing through his impressive collection of books.

But the pupil had been even more thrilled about being able to work in his potions lab. She was still mesmerised. She had of course known that his laboratory would be well-equipped as well as adequately taken care of; but she had been completely awestruck by the sheer extent of colourful potions, rare ingredients and weird tools hidden away in the small dungeon space. Even though she was arguably one of the smartest witches in the world, she could have never named even just half of the things she'd seen in there. The half-blood owned so many odd and complex appliances, some of which seemed to be older than Hogwarts itself. She'd also never seen as many diverse potions in one single spot before. So she would give anything for a chance to explore this mind-boggling place for even just an hour.

However, Hermione had been a bit puzzled by Professor Snape's behaviour. The black-haired man had seemed distracted throughout the whole work process. He had avoided eye contact and talked even less than he normally would – which probably no one would have thought to be possible. In fact, he'd never once called her an annoying know-it-all or anything similar to that. And when he had finally escorted her out of his rooms, it had seemed as though he couldn't have her leave fast enough.

She shrugged. "Well, he probably just felt extra uneasy because one of his least favourite students was invading his space. Can't really blame him for that …" she mumbled as she tucked her blouse back into her charcoal grey skirt.

* * *

Severus turned on the old, rusty faucet and let the cold water trickle down his naked body. Crushed snake fang powder mixed with sweat was rinsed off him as a few strands of jet-black hair fell into his face. He hadn't felt this uneasy since his days of being both the Dark Lord's servant as well as Dumbledore's spy.

He still couldn't believe what had gotten over him back in the lab. His impure thoughts about his own student made him feel dirty and disgusting. Sure, Granger wasn't a little girl anymore, and most people would probably think of her as an attractive young woman – but having any feelings of this sort was still something highly inappropriate for a teacher. Besides, Snape had never been one to show much interest in the opposite sex to begin with. As a matter of fact, he hadn't harboured any feelings for anybody since Lily Potter, his childhood sweetheart. After her violent death had broken both his heart and will, switching sides and being in constant danger as the headmaster's puppet in the plan to bring about Voldemort's downfall hadn't left much time for him to fall in love again or even just to simply lust after a woman. Seeing the Head Girl's feminine curves, which were normally well-hidden underneath Hogwarts' plain uniform, had made him experience a rush of feelings he had thought long gone.

"Enough!" he snarled angrily. "Get a hold of yourself, Severus! Thinking about the Gryffindor Princess in such a way – how low can you get?!"

He hastily turned off the faucet and exited his rundown shower. He walked out of his bathroom and into his sitting room, ignoring the water running down his legs onto the floor. Opening one of the narrow doors, his rather spacious yet still cosy bedroom was revealed. Within only three big steps, he reached his king-sized bed and let himself fall on his back. He could feel the sheet beneath him getting wet, but he simply didn't care enough about that at that moment.

Snape laid in the dark for a good few minutes, before his stomach suddenly started to growl aggressively. But while his body may have been desperate for food, the wizard didn't feel like eating. Actually, he didn't feel like doing anything. He only had about an hour left before he had to get ready to teach his third-year Gryffindor and Slytherin students; and even just the thought of that made him groan. He closed his eyes in exhaustion and was soon fast asleep.


	8. A Muggle Milestone With A Magical Twist

**Chapter 8: A Muggle Milestone With A Magical Twist**

Over the course of the next week, Severus tried his best to keep his distance from Granger. He completely ignored his apprentice and her tenacious, ever-waving right arm during regular Potions class; and for their Tuesday lesson, he simply sent her to the greenhouses to collect some Mandrake leaves as his supply had run low.

By the time their next lesson rolled around, however, he could no longer avoid the witch. The Hospital Wing was in sudden dire need of Wiggenweld Potion, causing the matron to request such a large quantity of bottles that Snape by no means could have handled it all himself. "I will need to have a word with Poppy after dinner," the half-blood thought pettishly as he carefully measured out the required amount of salamander blood. "She ought to keep a better eye on her stock and place orders earlier. I simply cannot get any proper work done like this! My research sure is suffering terribly under these ludicrous conditions …" Of course, he would have never admitted that he was mostly trying to dodge long lab hours with the Gryffindor Princess.

On the other side of the classroom, Granger was in the midst of simultaneously stirring three gigantic copper cauldrons with a little help from her wand. She almost seemed to be in a world of her own, with her brows deeply furrowed in concentration. Severus also noticed that the skin of her lips was looking horribly battered. Needless to say, he had observed her nervous lip biting habit years ago; but today, he was purposely trying to keep his eyes away from her and her stupid, all too distracting mouth.

Just as Snape was about to start calculating how much flobberworm mucus would be needed for the potion, the heavy classroom door suddenly swung open. "Severus, my old friend!" the headmaster's familiar voice resonated from the dungeon walls, causing him to wince. In the name of Merlin, that loony fool was the last thing he needed right now!

Looking up, he saw the infamous grey-bearded wizard strutting towards his desk. If the old man hadn't been wearing bright green robes with metallic purple embroidery paired with a ridiculous-looking pointy hat, he might even have been a majestic sight to behold. Severus rolled his eyes melodramatically before giving his employer a curt nod of acknowledgement. "Headmaster … What can I do for you?"

Once Dumbledore came to a halt in front of him, Severus could see that strange twinkle in his eyes that he knew all too well. _What is this ancient madman up to now?_ "My boy, I always enjoy getting the chance to converse with you," he said with glee. "Today, however, I have come to see the lovely Miss Granger. As I can see, the two of you are getting along just great!" Severus thought that he could see his mouth form a slight smirk.

Granger's head shot up in surprise. "Me?" she asked, a bit flustered. "But why, Professor? Did something happen? Am I needed as Head Girl? Did Harry get hurt during Quidditch practice? Or Ron? Ginny?" One could almost sense her thoughts spinning through the room at lightning speed.

The headmaster smiled softly. "Now, now, Miss Granger, no need to worry! Remember, the dangerous times are over now, aren't they?" Snape saw her sigh in relief and nod her head, as if to reassure herself. Trying to remove himself from the situation, he walked over to the cauldrons that the young woman had now abandoned and added a handful of lionfish spines to their bubbling content. Dumbledore continued, "In fact, I am here to celebrate a joyous occasion! After all, it has come to my attention that there is a very important day coming up rather soon; and since I unfortunately won't be on school grounds tomorrow, I thought that I should come and congratulate you today."

While Granger seemed pleasantly surprised and even blushed a little at these words, Severus was more than confused. "Congratulate?"

"Why, yes, Severus! Don't tell me you weren't aware of the fact that it is Miss Granger's birthday tomorrow?"

The Potions Master curled his lip in annoyance and redirected his attention to the potion before him, which was now in the process of turning bright yellow. "I was not. And quite frankly, I do not see why this should be of any concern or importance to me."

"But birthdays are always of great importance!" the flamboyant man exclaimed almost dramatically. "Besides, need I remind you that it is tradition for apprentices to receive a present from their tutor on their special day? I'm sure that you must have stumbled across this wonderful practice at some point during your research."

Come to think of it, he did recall coming across something like that when re-reading _Hogwarts: A History_ following that fateful staff meeting two and a half weeks ago. Severus groaned. He felt like he was being punished for everything he had ever done wrong in life. Not only was he being forced to closely work with the arguably most annoying person he'd ever met, but now he also had to present her with a gift – like he was one of her idiotic little friends! And what should he even give to her? How should he, a 37-year-old man who had never had a proper relationship with a woman in his entire life, know what today's girls were into? He grimaced at the thought of going down to Hogsmeade and buying heart-shaped candies from Honeydukes or, even worse, standing between the racks in Gladrags Wizardwear and thinking about what piece of clothing would fit the Muggle-born's well-formed body the best.

Dumbledore for one seemed highly amused by his younger colleague's reaction. "I'm sure you will be able to find something that is just perfect for our equally as perfect student. Now, Miss Granger, I wish you a very happy birthday, and, of course, I did not come empty-handed either. I think I made a great pick if I dare say so myself!"

He handed her a little pouch similar to the one that Snape had received at the beginning of term, only that this time it was made of neon yellow fabric with little light blue pearls sewn around the hem. The girl cautiously untied it with her delicate hands, revealing a thin golden bracelet with only one small charm dangling from it: a glossy white cowry shell.

"I came across this lovely specimen this summer during a nice, long walk along the French Riviera. If I recall correctly, you used to spend many happy days there with your family before you entered the wizarding world, is that right?"

Her honey brown eyes lit up immediately. "Yes! Oh, thank you so much, Professor! What a thoughtful gift – I will treasure it forever!" The headmaster had a content look on his face as he watched her promptly put on her new piece of jewellery.

"I do not want to ruin this precious moment," Snape suddenly interjected, sarcasm clearly dripping from his stern voice. "But I do believe that Miss Granger is here to help me brew, not to celebrate a birthday … Especially one that is still hours away at that."

Alarmed, his apprentice hurried back to tend to the cauldrons, whereas Dumbledore merely chuckled. Making his way to the classroom door, he turned back around one more time.

"Oh, and Severus?" he called out, causing the Potions professor to tear his eyes away from his cutting board and look up. "Thank you so very much for so quickly taking care of this whole Wiggenweld Potion situation. Poppy sure seemed terribly upset with me when I accidentally knocked her entire supply off the shelves in her storage room last night. I did feel awfully bad about it, of course; but what can I say – I guess we all just get a bit clumsier with age!" Severus glowered at the older man as he gave him a mischievous wink before disappearing into the dark dungeons at long last.

The next half hour was fortunately free of any further disruptions. He and Granger were able to finish brewing the potion relatively soon and were now carefully pouring the thick liquid into cylindric-shaped glass bottles. It was then that the Head Girl decided to break the silence.

"You know, Professor, you don't really need to give me anything. It's not an important birthday anyways," she said hoarsely.

Not taking his gaze off his work for even a second, Severus waited awhile before answering. Eventually, he replied, "Miss Granger, believe me when I say that there is nothing I would rather do. However, I am already forced to take part in this imbecile apprenticeship programme as it is. So I might as well participate to the best of my abilities." After another short pause, he added, "Not that I have much of a choice. I would never hear the end of it if the headmaster found out that I didn't eagerly play along with his silly antics."

"Oh, um, well …" Granger stuttered. "I would like to thank you in advance then, sir."

Ignoring what she'd just said, he continued, "And if there is even such a thing as an important birthday, the eighteenth would surely be one of them. After all, I do believe that it equals coming of age in the Muggle world."

He could see her frown out of the corner of his eye. "Certainly. But most witches and wizards do not seem to attach value to this. I reckon that the majority of them don't even know that there is a difference between the wizarding and the Muggle world in this regard."

Snape snorted. "I do hope that I would be aware of it, having a Muggle father myself!"

He only noticed his mistake when he saw her jaw almost drop to the floor, and then his breathing hitched. He had just shared personal information with a student! Having always been a very private and reserved man, this was something that he'd never ever done before, not even with his favourite Slytherins – and yet he had just now recklessly slipped up in front of one of Potter's main sidekicks. He cursed under his breath.

"Miss Granger, it looks like there are only a few phials left to fill. I believe that you should go now."

He could see that it took the teenager a few moments to regain her composure before she finally bobbed her head and started to gather her belongings. Once she had left the classroom, Severus put his head in his hands – he could already feel a migraine coming.

* * *

Hours later, Hermione made her way from the Astronomy Tower back to her private quarters. As soon as she was inside, she dropped her heavy bag onto the floor and let herself fall onto her bed. She was utterly exhausted. It was almost midnight and it had been a very long day. While she had always been a night owl, she certainly needed her sleep during the week.

She remained in this position for a few minutes before she reluctantly sat up and took off her uniform. She stood up, walked over to her closet and pulled out some worn-out pyjamas which she had received as a Christmas gift from Mrs Weasley nearly three years ago. They were terribly ugly, being of a washed-out pink colour and an atrocious floral pattern, but they were comfortable and Hermione loved them to pieces.

After finishing her nightly routine consisting of washing her face, brushing her teeth, packing her bag for the following day and casting a few protective spells – an old, hard-to-kick habit of wartime – the Gryffindor finally slipped into bed. With her eyelids already feeling heavy, she quickly wrapped herself in her fluffy blanket and pulled a happily purring Crookshanks to her chest. She'd never felt this tired before.

Hermione had almost fallen asleep when the feline in her arms suddenly started to squirm, hissing loudly. Confused and a bit drowsy, the girl turned around and noticed one of the school's owls sitting on her windowsill. Her eyebrows knitted in surprise as she begrudgingly got back up and walked over to it. _Who in their right mind would send out something so late?_ Exchanging the animal's package for a few tasty bird treats, she closed the window before getting back into bed. As far as she could see, the parcel hadn't come with any sort of note; and the only thing she uncovered after removing the brown wrapping paper was a rather old-looking book.

"_Lumos_," she whispered. With the tip of her wand glowing faintly, she was able to take a better look at the publication in front of her. The title was almost completely faded, but she was still able to decipher it: _Long-forgotten Secrets of the Mayan Wizarding Culture – Potions, Spells and More_.

Suddenly, the famous young witch was wide-awake and even let out a minor shriek. _Unbelievable!_ In her hands, she was holding one of only twelve known copies of one of the most sought-after literary masterpieces from the early 19th century. It was so rare that some magical scholars would quite literally give an arm and a leg just to catch a short glimpse of it. And now it seemed as though Hogwarts' on-site know-it-all was in possession of an exemplar – Hermione was in complete shock.

Even more shocking, however, was the fact that she had actually seen this priceless book in person before – hiding in plain sight on one of many shelves in Professor Snape's sitting room.


	9. Girl Talk

**Chapter 9: Girl Talk**

"Hermione, would you mind if Ron and I go now? Not to be rude, but we have Quidditch practice and … you know," Harry said sheepishly.

Hermione couldn't help but smile. For her birthday, Ginny and the boys had surprised her with a truly lovely evening. They had caught her after Transfiguration class and brought her to her private chambers which had been decorated using a seemingly completely random assortment of silly and rather tacky Muggle party supplies. As a result, the four of them were now sitting in her small bedroom amidst an explosion of colourful balloons, gigantic honeycomb balls made of flimsy tissue paper as well as lots and lots of cheap, glittering plastic streamers. There was even a cheesy banner hanging on one of the walls that read _HAPPY BIRTHDAY HERMIONE! XOXO_ in big, bold letters. How her friends had orchestrated all of this, she did not know. Even after some intense questioning on her part, they had refused to disclose how exactly they had managed to gain access to the password-protected Head Girl Tower without her knowledge; however, Hermione had the sneaking suspicion that a certain free elf may or may not have had something to do with it.

Naturally, the trio also hadn't forgotten to shower her in gifts, all of which were now neatly stacked on her dresser, right next to all of the other presents she had already received earlier during the day: a beautiful bouquet of fragrant wildflowers from Neville, a rather peculiar-looking necklace and a handmade card from Luna, and a parcel filled with an abundance of merchandise from the newest Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes product range, courtesy of Fred and George. Needless to say, Hermione wasn't planning on touching or especially using any of the joke items, but she still greatly appreciated the thought.

The newest additions to this small collection were a small, round bottle of fairly pricey perfume from Ginny, a fluffy scarf made of thick, mulberry-coloured wool with a matching beanie and half-mittens from Ron (though Hermione thought it likely that he hadn't actually bought them but rather had them made by his warm-hearted mother) as well as an expensive quill set from her favourite stationary store in Diagon Alley and an interesting book about wizarding tattoos – which were permanently charmed upon application and therefore moved across sections of the body similar to the way magical photos or paintings did on canvas – from Harry. The Muggle-born had almost let out a little laugh when realising that it was the exact same volume that she herself had purchased from Tomes and Scrolls only a few months prior and that was now sitting on one of her shelves in this very room. Not that she would ever tell him – it was the gesture that counted, after all!

"No worries," Hermione said. "Of course you can go! I know how important this last season is for the both of you."

"And besides," the youngest Weasley chimed in. "Hermione and I need some time to ourselves for a long overdue girl talk anyway! With all this school work and stressing out about Quidditch, we really haven't had the chance to chat in like forever. I'm sure you won't mind me missing out on one training session, right?" she asked, as if they hadn't already hashed all of this out beforehand.

"Not at all," Harry answered lovingly before moving in to give her a quick peck on the lips, with Ron demonstratively looking the other way. After having the weight of constant threats and fear for the lives of his loved ones lifted from his shoulders following the end of the war, it seemed as though the young wizard with the famous lightening scar was finally feeling comfortable enough to have a normal and out-in-the-open relationship with his redheaded sweetheart.

The two boys then hugged the birthday girl goodbye before making a swift exit. As soon as the door shut behind them, Ginny turned to Hermione with the biggest grin on her face; it almost made the freckles on her rosy cheeks look like they were dancing.

"We finally did it, Hermione!" she exclaimed excitedly.

Absentmindedly picking at the remaining crumbs of a cake that had once read _Sweet Eighteen_, the older girl frowned in confusion. "Who did what?" she asked.

"Harry and I! You know …" Her expression turned cheeky.

"Oh … OH!" The nature of the topic instantly made the witch feel awkward. "Um, well, that's great for you, Gin!"

"Thank you! Oh Hermione, it was absolutely wonderful! We sneaked out late night on Saturday and met up in the Room of Requirements. I don't know what Harry asked for exactly, but he definitely aced it! The whole room was decorated with rose petals and floating candles; and there was a huge canopy bed and even a fireplace! I can't even begin to tell you how long I'd been waiting for this moment and it turned out just perfect! Harry was so gentle and …"

Hermione listened to her babble on with only half an ear. She was happy for her best friend, of course; but at the same time, she couldn't help but feel a little sullen. With the majority of her teenage years having been spent cramming for exams while trying to keep Harry alive and out of trouble, she had never had the time for any romantic escapades. In her juvenile blindness, Gilderoy Lockhart had been her first heartthrob and she had even harboured a small crush on Sirius Black for a while. A quick snog with Viktor Krum underneath the Quidditch Pitch bleachers during the night of the Yule Ball, however, had been the most action she'd ever had. While most people – including Harry, Ginny and probably even Ron himself – still seemed to think that she and the Gryffindor Keeper would someday end up together, Hermione had ruled out that scenario a long time ago. She loved the boy dearly, but he would never be more than a good friend to her; they were just too different. She needed someone more mature – someone who put as much emphasise on intellect and academics as her. But did someone like that even exist in the first place?

"… And I'm just so happy right now! I really feel like our relationship has been taken to a whole new level." Ginny paused for a second. "Anyway, enough of me. Now tell me what's been going on in the life of Hogwarts' smartest smartass."

"Hey!" Hermione proclaimed exasperatedly, but she did have to giggle when she saw the redhead's smug expression – her friends had all figured out a long time ago how to rile her up using foul language. "Well, not much really. I've just been studying, fulfilling my duties as Head Girl, doing my lessons with Professor Snape and –"

"Galloping gargoyles! I'd totally forgotten about you and that slimy bastard!" the younger girl shouted, ignoring her shocked and appalled look. "You know, I still can't believe that you chose him as your tutor! I mean, I'm already having a hard time with how strict McGonagall is being with me, and she can't be even half as bad as that minger. How are you holding up?"

"It's really not that bad. I mean, yes, he does make me work hard, but I knew that going in. And quite frankly, a big workload is not the worst thing – I do want to improve my brewing skills, after all. Plus, I do think that all of you have a completely wrong impression of Professor Snape. It's true that he's quite stern and almost cold sometimes, but he was a true hero during the war; you know that as well as I do. And after allowing me to work in his private lab and giving me that amazing birthday gift, I really don't believe that –"

"WHAT?" Ginny's outcry was so intense that her hazel eyes bulged to an abnormal extent. "Private lab? Birthday gift?! What the hell? You haven't even been working with that plonker for a month and you already seem to be talking about a completely different Snape than me!"

Hermione was more than a little irritated at being interrupted yet again, but she decided to let it slide. "Merlin's beard, Ginny, calm down! Yes, we are both talking about the same _Professor_ Snape; and yes, he still is the same snarky and spiteful wizard as always. More importantly, however, it wasn't like he invited me into his laboratory voluntarily. The Hospital Wing was in desperate need of medicine, but the Potions classroom was occupied – so he didn't really have a choice but to have us use his personal workspace to brew."

"Hmm, I guess that makes sense. It's still a bit weird, though." There was a brief moment of silence. "Wait … Wouldn't his private lab be inside his personal quarters?"

When she didn't answer immediately, the ginger-haired adolescent started jumping up and down excitedly on the bed. "By Salazar's balls, Hermione! I cannot believe you entered the Dungeon Bat's private chambers and lived to tell the tale! How does it look down there? Is it true that he has every single mirror covered with a piece of cloth so that he doesn't have to see his own ugliness, just like Charlie used to want me to believe? Oh, you have to tell me everything!"

She rolled her eyes. "Just stop it. It really wasn't that big of a deal. I had to promise him not to tell a soul anyway. So don't even try to squeeze any specifics out of me!"

"Oh, come on! You can't lure me with such a scandalous story and then leave out all the juicy details! You will tell me, even if I have to force you!" And with those words, she dropped to her knees, grabbed one of the bed's many pillows and started hitting her friend with it ruthlessly.

"_OUCH!_ Hey, Ginny, stop it! AH!" Hermione tried dodging the cushioned weapon, but it was to no avail. "Okay, okay, stop bothering me already! You really are something, Ginevra Weasley – it's quite mean of you to treat me in such a way on my birthday, you know!" she exclaimed before hastily fixing her now messed-up ponytail. "I will tell you, but not before you promise me not to tell anyone, not even Harry! Professor Snape would kill me if he found out that I dared to blab."

The redhead was beaming following her victory. "Pinky promise!"

Hermione audibly sighed before proceeding. "Well, his rooms are definitely not what you would expect. I didn't view them in their entirety, of course; but from what I could see, the quarters are actually quite nice. It didn't feel like a dark and gloomy dungeon space at all. His sitting room is filled with hundreds upon hundreds of books, some of which I have never even heard of, Gin! Oh, how I wish I could just go back and browse for a few hours! A few of the books seem to be centuries-old originals that were written by hand and –" She stopped herself when she noticed the annoyed look on the other girl's face. "Anyway, it's actually quite cosy down there; he even has a fireplace. And yes, there was a mirror, without any cloth in sight. That's about it, really. There were some doors leading to other rooms, but he understandably directed me into the laboratory rather quickly. I know that you're not that into brewing, but let me tell you that even you would be amazed by that place. So much amazing machinery and such rare ingredients! Oh, I could go on forever!"

"Yeah, yeah, please spare me the details. I couldn't care less about his silly collection –" Ginny skilfully overlooked her friend's glare. "The interesting part is that you've actually been inside his private chambers. That's absolutely insane! Just wait until Harry and Ron find out, we'll be able to play so many awesome pranks on that git! Next time you go –"

"No, Ginny! I told you, you cannot tell anybody!"

"But –"

"NO! No ifs, ands or buts – just stop! You promised me, remember? I don't think I'll ever have the chance to go back anyway. Besides, after receiving that terrific gift from him yesterday, I really ought to be thankful rather than play any mean tricks on him."

To beat her to another overemotional outburst, Hermione quickly recounted Dumbledore's surprise visit and explained the tradition of giving gifts to one's apprentice to celebrate them becoming another year older.

"So McGonagall will give me a birthday gift, too?" Ginny asked eagerly. The Head Girl confirmed with a brief bob of her head. "Sweet! But what did the old bugger get you anyhow?"

Hermione furled her eyebrows in distaste before using the Summoning Charm on her new most prized possession and handing it to the girl.

"Huh? It just looks like some old book that's about to fall apart," Ginny said, clearly disappointed by the worn object laying on her lap.

"I know that it may not look like much, but it's the exact opposite. This here," Hermione lifted the book so that it was on eye-level. "– is one of the most infamous wizarding works ever created. It's so rare that not even the Ministry possesses a copy of it. Gin, this book is priceless – it's easily worth more than the net worth of all current _and_ past Quidditch players in the entire world combined!"

Finally understanding the severity of the situation, Ginny gasped. "And Snape still gave it to you?! Why in Merlin's name would he do something like that?"

"I honestly don't know. Such a gift would already be considered excessive even if we were friends, so I don't understand at all why he would give it to me despite his obvious hatred towards me." She heaved a sigh. "I've been racking my brain all day trying to come up with a way to properly thank him, but I don't think I would even know what to say. I mean, this is the most amazing thing that anyone's ever done for me!"


	10. Oh, How Intimate First Names Can Be!

**Chapter 10: Oh, How Intimate First Names Can Be!**

Severus cut her off before she could even get a single word out.

"Miss Granger, today, you will be preparing a rather easy potion which you have already learnt about during your early years at this school: the Cure for Boils. As I will be instructing the first-years in how to brew this particular potion tomorrow morning, I thought that it would be wise to have some ready-made phials of it on hand. After all, we both know how foolish and dim-witted some students can be." He was, of course, referring to how Neville Longbottom once had made a cauldron melt while unsuccessfully trying his luck at this very concoction.

"Now, when you first learnt how to brew the Cure for Boils, you used a formula from _Magical Drafts and Potions_. This time around, however, you will be working according to the instructions found in the _Book of Potions_ as that version does not consume as much time. As you can see, I have written the directions on the blackboard. You may take the required ingredients from the storage room and get started."

As Miss Granger obediently and – by the grace of the gods – for once wordlessly got down to work, the Potions Master sat down behind his desk. He pulled up some essays to correct; however, he couldn't concentrate on them no matter how hard he tried. He stared at the letters and words written in smudged ink for what felt like hours, but his mind couldn't seem to form coherent sentences out of them. It appeared as though this was becoming some sort of pattern for him; he hadn't been able to be productive for weeks. Whenever he would try to do some research or even just to read a book, his head would start to fill with images of a certain insufferable know-it-all.

Severus was hopelessly distraught. He was beyond disgusted with himself for acting like a teenage boy going through puberty all over again. It didn't matter whether he was eating in the Great Hall, teaching in his classroom or walking through the castle's ever-busy corridors – whenever there was a quiet moment, he couldn't help his thoughts wandering to his apprentice. To combat this, he was trying to keep himself as busy as possible and had even began to lash out at the student body more than he usually already did. But his desperate attempts proved to be fruitless; once he would lie in bed at night, the darkness engulfing him, he couldn't put a stop to his imagination anymore.

His mind would be plagued by mental pictures of the Gryffindor Princess, some real and some nothing but chimerical. Miss Granger in his private laboratory, bend over a cauldron, small beads of sweat running down her slender neck into her cleavage. Miss Granger in his sitting room, spread across the fluffy carpet in front of the fireplace, reading one of his beloved books while only scantily clad. Miss Granger straddling him on his bed, a cheeky smile on her face as she moves in to kiss him with those luscious lips of hers.

Worst of all, he couldn't help his body's reaction to these forbidden thoughts either, and that made him feel like a complete sicko.

Severus knew that he was doomed. Why oh why did this have to happen to him out of all people?! The Head of Slytherin – a former Death Eater and more often than not referred to as the greasy git of the dungeons – lusting after Gryffindor's on-site smartass who was half his age; could it really get any worse? Had he honestly gotten so desperate for female touch that he had to resort to fantasising about a girl still wearing her school uniform?

He had only been in love once in his life and that had ended in tragedy. Except for some random encounters with witches he didn't care for, he didn't really have any experience when it came to the opposite sex. And so even if his silly, little crush weren't so immorally wrong, it could never work out anyways. The Dungeon Bat wasn't exactly what one would call a chick magnet. His nose was disproportionately large, his skin was almost sickeningly pallid, and his entire body was battered and scarred from the torture he had had to endure as a follower of the Dark Lord. A smart girl like Hermione Granger could never love an old wreck like him.

NO! Who was even talking about love?! Severus was simply getting turned on by her admittingly rather shapely form, that was all – he was a man, after all. Yes, while he had had many good-looking students walk into his Potions classroom over the years – with some of them even having being stupid enough to try to offer themselves to him in exchange for better grades – none of them had ever caused such a reaction before; but that was probably just due to the fact that the war was finally over now. With him not having to constantly fear for his life anymore, his body was seemingly starting to act "normal" again and that included his libido, too. With not many options available to him cooped up here in the middle of nowhere, it was no surprise that he would eventually stoop as low as to desire someone as annoying, overzealous and pesky as Granger. Mind you, she had indeed grown up to be a beautiful and attractive young woman. Him suddenly not getting irritated anymore by the constant flow of questions leaving her mouth and instead thinking about that very mouth in a perverted way meant absolutely nothing; he was simply horny.

At least that was what Severus was trying to tell himself.

To make matters worse, he had gone completely overboard with that stupid birthday gift. After having been forced to play along with this silly tradition, Snape's mind had been completely blank on what to get his apprentice. Following a frantic one-hour search of his rooms, he had still not been able to find anything suitable for an 18-year-old girl.

"Well, she _is_ a bookworm ..." he'd thought after finally deciding on his volume of _Long-forgotten Secrets of the Mayan Wizarding Culture – Potions, Spells and More_. Severus had never been a huge fan of this book to begin with; while it was certainly a good read, he had always thought that it was completely overrated and therefore not worth hanging on to. Still, Miss Granger would probably get some enjoyment out of it somehow.

He had only realised his mistake once he had already sent off the owl. Even if he himself didn't think much of the book, the witch would surely be bewildered as to why her teacher would gift her something so rare and valuable. There was no doubt in his mind that she would start to question his intentions sooner rather than later.

Severus let out a small grunt. He would have to find a way out of this misery. From here on out, he would try to further limit his contact with Miss Granger; continuing to outright ignore her during class and giving her tasks to complete elsewhere instead of holding their apprenticeship lessons. He could also do some research and look for a potion that would help suppress his bodily desires. Worst case scenario, he would simply have to pay a quick late-night visit to the sketchier part of Diagon Alley and find a willing Galleon-seeking witch to take his sexual frustration out on. Perhaps he could also have a talk with Albus and ask him to reassign Miss Granger to –

Suddenly, there was a loud blast coming from the other side of the room. Alarmed, Severus looked up from his papers, but all he could see was a half-destroyed cauldron and a lot of dark blue smoke – there was no sign of his young pupil.

His heart leapt into his throat. "HERMIONE!" he cried out before sprinting to the scene of the accident. With a quick flick of his wooden wand, he at once got rid of the chaos, and it was then that he discovered Miss Granger lying on the cold dungeon floor, covered in a mixture of unfinished teal-coloured potion and what he suspected to be blood. Her head of curls was a fuzzy mess and her face was completely drained of colour.

Severus immediately dropped to his knees and grabbed her by the arms to pull her onto his lap. Thankfully, the brunette was still breathing; however, the blow of the explosion seemed to have knocked her out.

He feverishly thought about what could have caused such a catastrophe; brewing Boil Cure was a simple task after all. With a brief glance at the blackboard, it finally dawned on him: He had forgotten to add a warning to only stir the potion very gently after adding the pickled Shrake spines; otherwise they tended to get "overexcited" and therefore become explosive. The Potions Master had obviously assumed that Miss Granger would have known this already, but it seemed as though even the knowledge of Hogwarts' most brilliant student wasn't all-encompassing.

Severus couldn't help but to silently scold himself for this rookie mistake as he swiftly conjured up a cushioned stretcher on which he then carefully laid down his apprentice. After a quick visual assessment of her injuries, he was sure that the damage wasn't too bad apart from some cuts and bruises. As a next step, he ripped open her singed and torn blouse, trying hard to ignore her now visible frilly bra. Using some basic cleaning spells, he made quick work of the sticky potion and blood mixture before focusing on the main problem.

"_Vulnera Sanentur_," he whispered as he dragged his wand along the wounds on her chest and arms. He had invented this very spell during his own years as a student; and while it had originally been intended to mend severe injuries, it had become his go-to healing spell over time – because naturally, he had always had the most faith in his own creations.

A quick Repairing Charm later, Miss Granger's tattered clothing was back to its original state. Severus then disappeared into his storage room just to come back out a few minutes later with a crystalline phial in one hand and a small jar of ointment in the other. He placed the latter on a table nearby before yet again kneeling down next to his patient. Supporting her head with his left hand, he poured a few drops of Wideye Potion down her throat; it had come from the very batch they had brewed together not even two weeks earlier. Sitting back on his heels, all he could do then was to wait for her to wake up.

Soon enough, Granger started to stir and eventually let out a muffled groan before opening her brown eyes, seemingly disorientated. It was only when she attempted to sit up that her teacher spoke up.

"You shouldn't try to get back up quite yet … unless you enjoy feeling lightheaded, of course," he said with an icy undertone as he stood up and moved back to his desk, sensing her questioning look following his every move. He sat down in his black leather chair and waited for her to speak.

"What happened?" she finally managed to ask, her voice still husky.

"It seems as though I have overestimated your brewing abilities greatly, Miss Granger, as you appear to have disregarded the required safety precautions concerning the use of Shrakes in potions, subsequently blowing yourself up. As a result, you have not only forced me to interrupt my work and come to your aid, but I will now also have to utilize my free time later this evening to prepare the required potion for tomorrow's class. For this unbelievable foolishness, I shall deduct 15 points from Gryffindor."

A tiny tear started to slip down her left cheek, but whether it was caused by the pain from her injuries or his cold words the wizard did not know. The incident hadn't been completely her fault, of course; but Severus didn't care. He told himself that she should have better than to make such a ludicrous mistake. Now that he knew that she would eventually make a full recovery, worry and shock was replaced with sheer anger – anger over his doom-laded error, anger over how distressed the sight of her unconscious and wounded body had made him, anger over how he was nothing but a slave to his primal needs and anger over how he had frantically called out her name just minutes earlier. He was practically seething.

"I will let you know that I expect better from someone who is not only this school's Head Girl but also my personal apprentice. I expect _a lot_ better … Now, I suggest you take this jar of dittany," he commanded sternly, pointing to the small tin sitting on the desk to her right. "As I am sure you know it prevents scarring. Or maybe you don't. Who could be sure after such a grave mishap?"

Apparently, he'd gone a step too far with his mocking, because the young woman's crying promptly turned into uncontrollable sobs. Standing up abruptly, still a bit unstable on her legs, she bolted from the room, leaving the ointment as well as all of her other belongings behind. Snape grabbed the pieces of parchment covering his desk and flung them against the dungeon wall in blind rage. Damn Hermione Granger, damn those oversensitive Gryffindors, damn his own emotional turmoil!

Later that night, Severus was lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

"Hermione," he whispered, letting the name roll off his tongue in a hushed voice.

For some reason, saying her given name out loud seemed a lot more intimate than any of the deviant, shameful fantasies he'd had about little Miss Granger.


	11. Just A Filthy Mudblood

**Chapter 11: Just A Filthy Mudblood**

Over the course of the following month, there was a noticeable cold distance between the Potions Master and his apprentice. Somehow, his snarky comments following the brewing accident seemed to have affected the young witch a lot more than any of his other equally mean remarks in the past. As a result, she stopped raising her hand during class and was always the last one to enter and the first one to leave the gloomy dungeon room – if she showed up at all, that was.

Severus knew that it was very much unlike her to skip class, of course; but he left it at deducting points whenever she did. At the end of the day, she was Minerva's responsibility and not his. In fact, he was rather glad about the change in her behaviour. He was glad that her essays, which had used to be so elaborate and verbose, were now kept to a minimum and soon turned dull, reading no different to other students' work. He was even more glad that she wouldn't make eye contact with him and only gave one-word answers as needed, even during their private lessons. Her complete refusal to communicate with him made it a hell of a lot easier to get her out of his head. After a few weeks, he stopped having indecent thoughts about her all together which finally put his mind at ease – that silly infatuation had only been a phase after all.

Or at least that was what he believed until one fateful Friday evening in mid-October.

Snape was sitting at the cluttered desk in his dark office, grading papers about Lobalug venom and its uses in potions written by his third-year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students. The essay in front of him at that very moment was starting to turn into a sea of red ink and Severus rolled his eyes in frustration. While they certainly had their good qualities, he had yet to encounter a Hufflepuff with a single ounce of talent for potion brewing.

Just as he was about to write a particularly nasty comment at the bottom of the three-foot-long parchment roll, there suddenly was the sound of commotion coming from outside the door.

"Piss off!" the deep voice of a man could be heard resonating through the dungeon hallway.

"No!" Severus instantly matched the high-pitched tone of the second person to Granger. "As Head Girl, it is my duty to protect all students from any physical or emotional harm, and I clearly saw you use the Stinging Hex on poor little Stewart Ackerly as he was going up the Grand Staircase. So whether you like it or not, you will be accompanying me to your Head of House for appropriate disciplinary action at once!"

"Listen here, you minger!" the male retaliated angrily. "I will not be told what to do by someone like _you_, do you fucking understand?! I do not give a shit about what stupid little title that knobhead of a headmaster gave you or what idiotic principles you think you need to uphold – I will not be bossed around by a Mudblood! The war may be over, but don't think for a second that you will ever be more than the scum of the earth! Your kind shouldn't even be allowed at this school!"

When Severus then heard a loud bang directly followed by a squealing outcry, he finally jumped out of his chair and rushed to the door. By the time he had pushed it open and run into the secluded corridor, Theodore Nott had already cornered Granger in an alcove, pushing her significantly smaller frame against the mouldy stone wall as his wand was buried deep in the flesh of her throat.

"I should really just take you out here and now. Not that anyone would care about one less rotten Mudblood tainting –"

All the Potions professor needed was one simple hand movement to nonverbally and wandlessly disarm the Slytherin and catapult him several feet into the air, eliciting an anguished yelp upon impact with the hard ground. Meanwhile, the now freed witch dropped to the floor. Breathing heavily, she struggled to contain her tears as her hand shot up to rub her flushed neck.

"Miss Granger, would you please go into my office and wait there while I … take care of this situation," Severus muttered, dangerously calm as he walked towards the young pure-blood cowering in front of him.

"But –"

"Now, Miss Granger."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her frantically use the sleeve of her grey sweater to wipe her reddened eyes as she slowly got back up on her feet, throwing once last glance at her assailant before brushing past them and disappearing into the office.

Once Snape heard the lock latch, he grabbed the boy at his feet by the collar and violently pushed him against the wall, much like the wimp had done to the Gryffindor just seconds earlier.

"Mr Nott," he basically spat the name into the lanky adolescent's face. "Just what is it that you think you are doing?! Not only did you defy the orders of the Head Girl – someone who has nearly as much disciplinary power as any professor at this school, mind you – but you also just threatened and physically assaulted another student!"

He could practically smell the teenager's fear. "But Professor, she deserved it! A Mudblood like her –"

"DO NOT EVER DARE TO USE THAT WORD IN MY PRESENCE AGAIN!" Severus roared, the veins of his neck protruding painfully. "Now that the Dark Lord is gone, I will no longer be tolerating this kind of behaviour at this school! Slytherin or not, you would do better to keep your idiotic prejudices to yourself – because if I ever hear you or anyone else use such terminology again, you will learn the hard way that there are worse things to go through other than the Cruciatus Curse, believe me!" With that, he pushed Nott away from him.

"To show you just how unacceptable your behaviour was, I shall deduct 250 points from Slytherin," he continued, not giving him a chance to speak. "In addition, you will be serving detention twice a week for the rest of the school year; I do believe that Mr Filch could use some help scrubbing the toilets. You will also no longer be permitted to attend any Quidditch games or take part in any Hogsmeade weekend visits. Oh, and I shall also deduct another 50 points for your assault on that Ravenclaw boy."

Giving him one last scowl, he pointed down the hallway. "Now, get out of my sight!"

Severus watched on in disgust as Nott hurriedly picked up his wand before scurrying off into the depths of the dungeons. Taking a few minutes to regain his composure, he remembered himself around that age.

An outside and a misfit, he had always tried so very desperately to fit in. He'd only had one real friend in his entire lifetime who had truly cared for him – Lily. But in his foolish arrogance, he had managed to screw even that up. It had been then that he had made the biggest mistake of his life: joining Voldemort's ranks and becoming a Death Eater.

Subconsciously rubbing his left forearm, he felt disappointed in how ignorant he had been. Looking back, it was so easy to see the stupidity of it all – bitter witches and wizards who hadn't been able to accept the fact that the blood purity they so frantically tried to cling onto no longer possessed any significance whatsoever and a maniac who had turned himself into a monster trying to become immortal. Severus may not be able to change the past, but he would be damned if he let this idiocy carry on any longer.

Shaking his head, he turned around and went back into his office. At first glance, he thought that Granger had somehow managed to sneak out while he had been telling her attacker off as he couldn't detect her anywhere in the little room. But then he discovered her sitting on the old, rickety three-legged stool he kept in the back corner, her legs hugged tightly to her body.

"Miss Granger –"

At his words, she abruptly startled up, and Severus could see her tear-streaked face. She was a blubbering mess. An agonised sob escaped her mouth before she quickly hid her face behind her hands.

Stunned, Severus walked over to her and carefully placed his hand on her quivering shoulder, trying very hard to ignore how his heart seemed to skip a beat as he touched her.

"Miss Granger," he repeated. But yet again, he only received more pitiful whimpers in response.

Snape let out a deep sigh before squatting down in front of her. While he had made many students cry in his days, he had never tried to console one before.

"Please look at me, Miss Granger. Why are you so distraught?" he asked in what he believed to be a soothing tone.

After a few more sniffles and sobs, her shaking voice could finally be heard coming from underneath the mountain of untamed curls.

"He's right," she said softly, keeping her face well-hidden.

Severus frowned. "Certainly not. Even though Mr Nott may be of a different opinion, the positions of Head Girl and Head Boy are important ones that have proven themselves useful for many centuries now and – "

"No," she interrupted him hoarsely. "He's right about me being a Mudblood."

Severus was flabbergasted. "Don't say –"

"BUT IT'S TRUE!" she practically screamed, her head shooting up to reveal the anguished expression on her blotchy face. "Voldemort may be dead, but things haven't changed! In people's eyes, I will always be worth less because I am Muggle-born. It doesn't matter how hard I try; even if I'm the best at everything, I will never be more than a, a –"

A lone tear escaped her chocolate brown eyes. "_A filthy Mudblood._"

When Severus didn't react immediately, still too dumbfounded to speak, she grimaced bitterly before jumping up and bolting for the door.

"Miss Granger, don't –" he pleaded, grabbing her by the wrist which in turn caused her to lose her footing and fall back onto him. Unable to remain upright following the accidental collision, he soon found himself on the dusty floor, with the bawling girl lying on top of him.

Severus promptly tried to get back up again, embarrassed by the sudden physical contact, but Granger just sobbed even louder and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

_Fuck. Fuck. What is she doing?!_

He momentarily panicked, not knowing what to do. But then – following a sudden urge inside of him that could only be described as the basic human instinct to comfort the suffering – he awkwardly embraced her shaking frame and started to slowly stroke her back.

"Miss Granger," he muttered gently, the words leaving his mouth seemingly involuntarily. "I might have to obliviate you after saying this, but believe me when I say that you are worth more than all of Britain's pure-bloods combined. This school has never seen a pupil as brilliant and smart as you. It is not your fault that those backward-thinking fanatics cannot come around to accept that one's blood status has nothing to do with one's magical abilities, you being the best example for that. You are not worth less just because you were born to non-magical parents. If anything, you are superior to those of us who grew up solely in the wizarding community, as you can move around the Muggle world freely without causing much of a stir – you've got the best of both worlds, really!"

When his lousy attempt at a joke was met with only more wailing and trembling, he hurriedly carried on with his speech. "Besides, you are a war hero, Miss Granger! If it hadn't been for your wits and resourcefulness, Potter would have been killed a long time ago; probably not even at the hands of the Dark Lord but rather due to a botched brewing attempt or the like. You played a key role in the downfall of the most dangerous wizard to have ever existed, and any Death Eater that is still left out there as well as those who continue to sympathise with that antiquated mindset would do better to fear you. I mean, none of my Slytherins were even brave enough to become my apprentice. Tell me how anyone could claim themselves to be of superior descent if they cannot even bring themselves to face the bat of the dungeons? Not that any of them would have been academically ambitious enough anyway …"

Severus made a small pause before he continued, "As hard as it may be, do not let their ignorant remarks get to you, and do not let yourself be consumed by hatred for them either, as there is already enough hate in the world as it is. If anything, feel pity for them. Their dim-witted pride occupies them so much that they cannot even get any joy from life. They let themselves be controlled by their fear of becoming insignificant, of losing the power they once held. They cannot admit to themselves that they have nothing left but their half-burned family tapestries filled with incest and tragedy. And once they come to their senses and realise their mistakes – which hopefully, they one day will – be the bigger person and forgive them. The heavy burden of their sins will be punishment enough. I –"

He struggled to find the right words. "I myself am guilty of such a shameful past, and I have spent the last 20 years paying for it. Unfortunately, some people do not seem to learn from history, and it truly mortifies me to see my Slytherins, the students of my beloved house, follow in the footsteps of their misguided parents. It's … it's just not right and it never will be."

No longer audibly crying, the girl in his arms appeared to have at last been calmed down by his words, and Severus was glad about that; just like many men, he was absolutely terrified of a woman's tears. Taking a deep breath, he finally did what he had done so rarely in life and never to a student at that: He apologised.

"My actions towards you were so often intolerantly mean, Miss Granger. Not only regarding the unfortunate incident with the Boil Cure, which was really caused by my carelessness rather than yours; but also all the years I let you and your …" Trying not to upset her any further, he searched for a neutral word to use for her dunderhead friends. "_Peers_ suffer from my admittingly despotic teaching style. I had to uphold a certain façade, of course; considering that I was still pretending to be on the Dark Lord's side. However, I often took it too far. Especially you, Miss Granger, should not have been put through all that, as you were an excellent, outstanding student. I know that I certainly do not deserve it, but I hope that you can find it in your heart to one day forgive me."

Not daring to breathe, he waited for a response – but there was none. Granger remained completely quiet.

Sheer terror arose inside him. Had he gone too far? Did she feel cornered by his sudden confession? Oh, he knew that he shouldn't have done that! Opening up to anyone – particularly a student – was just asking for trouble. Now she would undoubtedly go out and tell all of her moronic little friends about how much of a weak pussy he really was, and then they would never take him seriously ever again! Just the thought of it was enough to cause him to abruptly become irate.

"Enough of this nonsense," he said in his typical cold and threatening voice. "For your pathetic behaviour, I shall deduct 40 points from Gryffindor. House of the brave, my arse! Now, get off me at once!"

Still, no response.

"Miss Granger?" Severus asked a bit less forcefully this time, a look of slight confusion appearing on his face. "Miss Granger! … _Hermione?_"

Just then, a loud snore escaped Granger's lips – she had fallen asleep minutes ago.

Not wanting to wake her up now that she had finally settled down, Severus carefully readjusted her position on his body and let his head fall back until it came to a rest on the stone floor. He would wait a while to make sure that she was properly asleep before moving her off him and getting back to work. And meanwhile, he would just ignore that stupid feeling forming in his stomach.

Yes, that's what he would do.

* * *

When Hermione woke up the next morning, her body was aching terribly, but at the same time, she felt extremely well-rested. To tell the truth, she hadn't slept that well since her fifth year. Sirius' death had made it all real back then, and she had been battling terrible nightmares ever since. A faint smile appeared on her face – maybe those days were finally behind her!

Her eyes still closed, she snuggled up closer to the life-size teddy bear behind her which her older cousin had won for her at their town's fair more than a decade ago. Only that teddy bears normally didn't groan or pull you closer to them – and so the brunette was abruptly wide-awake.

Understandably shocked and confused, Hermione's eyes flew open, but she immediately flinched in pain; for some reason, her eyelids were swollen and hurt when she tried to open them. How weird, had she been crying?

A quick wandless healing spell later, she was finally able to take in her surroundings. Not that this helped her confusion at all: All she could see was a dark room, dimly lit by a few magically enchanted candles fixed to a dark grey stone wall. Was she in the dungeons? If so, she certainly couldn't remember how she got there. And why was she lying on the floor? The young woman was quite frankly baffled.

Just then, her "teddy bear" called attention to himself yet again with another loud grunt, reminding her of what had caused her to wake up in the first place. By now, she was certain that whoever was behind her wasn't her beloved stuffed animal, of course; as it was not only a mere Muggle product without the ability to move or make sounds, but it had also been located on the bed in her childhood room the last time she'd seen it. So who was it that was holding onto her with that grip made of steel?

She frantically ran through the possibilities in her head and for a split second, she even believed herself to have been kidnapped by one of the few remaining Death Eaters still at large, but she quickly dismissed that thought; one of Voldemort's fanboys surely wouldn't be hugging her spoon-style.

The next scenario that her mind came up with was a drunken night that had ended in a make-out session with some random guy. Not that she had ever done anything like that before, but that was what always happened in the movies, right? She couldn't remember getting drunk; however, Hogwarts _was_ famous for its secret student parties. Normally, it would have been her job as Head Girl to prevent those, but what if she had got herself caught up in something just this once?

Hermione furrowed her brows. Oh god, what if it was Ron?! Had she finally given into his advances? She couldn't help but feel sick to her stomach at the thought of his bloated lips kissing her mouth and his pasty hands roaming her body. If that was really what had happened, then their friendship would be over – there was just no way she could ever look him in the eyes again.

And so even though she would rather not know, she simply had to find out whose hands were holding onto her waist at this very moment. Gulping, she slowly turned her head towards the person behind her. But instead of seeing the expected ginger head of hair and the freckled face of her best friend, she was looking straight into the sleeping face of Severus Snape.

"Oh no," the girl whispered, her eyes wide in shock. "Oh no, no, no, no, no! What the –"

When the sudden noise caused him to stir, she quickly covered her mouth with her hand – it wouldn't do any good to waken the Dungeon Bat before she had figured this whole situation out.

After what felt like an eternity, the wizard finally settled down again, and it was only after her lungs started to ache that Hermione realised that she had been holding her breath.

_Okay, Hermione, relax! There has to be a reasonable explanation as to how you and Professor Snape ended up like this. Just think!_

Purposely avoiding looking in her cuddling partner's direction, Hermione racked her brain – but she simply could not come up with a plausible reason for their current situation. She didn't have any classes taking place in the dungeons on Friday evenings and she also couldn't remember having any extra apprenticeship lessons scheduled with her tutor; not that she would have had agreed to one in the first place. So why had she come down here? And what's more, what had led to her and Professor Snape cuddling on the cold floor of his office?

Already close to a panic attack, the previous night's events finally came back to her: How Theodore Nott had attacked her. How Professor Snape had come to her rescue. How she had been able to hear him tear the Slytherin apart. How she had broken down crying. How she had tripped and fallen onto her teacher who had then tried to comfort her. How safe she had felt in his strong arms before drifting off to sleep.

Hermione's relief about this G-rated explanation was short-lived, however, because she soon noticed how her professor's face was just a mere inch away from hers. Being this close to him felt so embarrassingly intimate that she couldn't help her face turning beet red. She made a feeble attempt to remove his arms from around her body, but that just caused him to squeeze her even tighter. Merlin's pants, what was she supposed to do now?

Trying to ignore Snape's soft snoring, she pondered for a few seconds before ultimately reaching down between them. After some awkward fiddling, she finally managed to extract her wand from the pocket of her skirt. A basic conjuring spell later, she was holding a fairly large white pillow in her hands.

She took a shaky breath – so far, so good. Now came the tricky part: In one swift movement, she slipped out from between his arms while simultaneously replacing her form with the cushion. While the Potions Master certainly didn't seem too happy about losing his cuddly toy – Hermione could have sworn that she even saw him pout for a split second – he soon settled back down. His apprentice exhaled in relief.

Trying not to make a sound, she stood up and quickly made herself presentable again by smoothing out her rather wrinkly clothes and fixing her tousled hair. Checking her wristwatch, she realised that it was only 4.53 a.m. – with a bit of luck, it was still early enough for her to sneak back to her tower without anyone noticing.

But just as she was about to head for the door, Hermione took another look at the sleeping man. Snape looked surprisingly peaceful as he lay there, with a five o'clock shadow gracing his cheeks and a bit of drool coming out of the corner of his half-open mouth. He definitely didn't look as angry or threating anymore, that was for sure. Not that Hermione had ever been scared of him; she had never truly believed him to be that mean monster all the other students – especially her fellow Gryffindors – made him out be. Yes, he had definitely intimidated her during her younger years and he had even made her cry once or twice. But knowing that he had been putting his life on the line trying to save the world from Voldemort, Hermione had always respected and trusted the Potions professor. He was one of the good ones, regardless of how grumpy and nasty he could be. And while he had deeply hurt her feelings with his mean words following the accident, she couldn't be mad at him anymore after his actions from the previous night. He had not only saved her from an attack, but he had also tried to console her.

A small smile appeared on her lips as she stepped closer to his sleeping figure. Leaning forward, she examined his face. While he certainly wasn't a classic beauty, he could still be considered handsome. His hair looked a bit uncared for and his nose was a little too big, but with that strong jawline and those prominent black eyebrows, that only added to his rugged and manly look.

He looked so calm and content in that moment that Hermione almost reached out her hand to touch his cheek. Instead, she swiftly conjured a blanket with which she covered his resting form. She then walked over to his desk, which was still filled with dozens upon dozens of documents and essays, and ripped a small piece of parchment paper off a blank roll. Using Snape's golden quill, she quickly scribbled down some words before quietly moving to the door and leaving the room, the dark-haired wizard still sound asleep on the floor.

* * *

It was not even an hour later when Severus opened his black eyes. Still dazed, he let out a hoarse grunt as he propped himself up on one elbow. He wasn't surprised about waking up in his office; he had oftentimes found himself there after being summoned by the Dark Lord and spending long nights at Death Eater raids. However, he had never woken up with a pillow underneath his head and a fluffy blanket draped across his body.

Following a brief moment of confusion, he remembered the previous night.

_I must have fallen asleep as well._

After a quick scan of the room, he was sure that he was alone. Feeling a heavy migraine approaching, Severus let out a deep sigh before climbing to his feet. He didn't even want to think about the Gryffindor's opinion on him now.

With a simple flick of his wand, he swiftly sleeked down his jet-black hair and made his beard stubbles disappear before making his way to the desk. While he felt absolutely whacked physically, he had to admit that he had slept surprisingly well. In fact, he hadn't slept that well since his own years as a student. Severus frowned. Not that that had anything to do with the little know-it-all, he told himself.

Slumping into his leather chair, he was just about to reach for one of the bottom drawers in search of some bottle of hard liquor to drown his memories of the previous night in when he noticed a short note written in that small, neat handwriting he knew all too well sitting on top of a pile of yet to be corrected essays.

_Thank you.  
– H._

As he read the brief scribble, he could feel a strange, warm feeling that he hadn't known in about two decades creep through his body.

_Shit._

He was starting to like Granger.


	12. A Friend For The Lonely Beast At Last

**Chapter 12: A Friend For The Lonely Beast At Last**

The following days went by way too fast, and the weekend was over before Severus knew it.

He had spent the two chilly autumn days locked away in his quarters, not leaving the cold confines of the dungeons even once. While he would normally spend his free days hunting for rare potion ingredients and interesting literature or working on improving his already impeccable brewing technique, he had passed the past 48 hours buried beneath countless pillows and thick blankets in his large four-poster bed. The only contact to the outside world had been provided by the school's ever-diligent house elves, who had both kept the Potions Master's rooms clean and delivered warm meals three times a day – not that the man had touched much of the food.

On Monday morning, Severus woke up with a throbbing headache. A quick look at his watch told him that breakfast was probably already in full swing, but he didn't feel like eating. Most of all, however, he didn't feel like facing a certain brunette before he absolutely had to. So instead, he got up and moved to the bathroom with sagging shoulders.

As he was standing in the shower a few minutes later, letting the icy cold water pour over his lithe body, he tried hard to ignore the intrusive thoughts that had been plaguing him all throughout the past days. They all had something to do with some newly discovered and rather confusing feelings for a little know-it-all, of course.

While he had dismissed his earlier impure thoughts about Granger as the simple result of prolonged abstinence, these confounding emotions were of a whole new calibre. Physical attraction was one thing; he could deal with that. But fancying one of his own students – let alone maybe falling in love with them – was simply too much. It made him feel almost physically ill.

Severus had never been one to handle his own feelings well, and his relative inexperience when it came to the opposite sex – especially in the romantic sense – only added to his confusion and uncertainty. The only woman he had ever been interested in, the only one he had ever loved, was Lily. And he had always thought that she was the love of his life. Even almost two decades after her violent death, her mental image was still looming over his scarred heart. The redhead had been the one thing that had kept him going throughout the war; she had been the only reason he had tried so desperately to keep that stupid Potter boy alive – and the only reason he had continued to live.

But now, he was slowly but surely starting to question all that. Whatever it was that he was beginning to feel towards Granger was so different and so much more intense than anything he had ever experienced before. Somehow, it even felt more powerful than his love for Lily had ever been to begin with. And over the weekend, the wizard had come to the shocking conclusion that the only reason he had ever been that obsessed with his childhood sweetheart was because she had been one of the few people to ever show a genuine interest in him as a person. Whether Severus liked it or not, he had always been someone who craved the attention and acceptance of others. That had been the main reason he had joined the ranks of the Dark Lord in the first place. Lily had been his friend, she had treated him with respect; and teenage-him had mistaken that for love. Looking back, he realised that it had never been her that he'd been craving; it had been her kindness towards him. The fact that his personal archenemy had also quickly started to show an interest in her had only made Snape more determined to make her his, of course.

His feelings towards Granger were of a different nature. She had never been his friend; in fact, Severus was pretty much sure that she hated him just as much as the rest of the student body – even if she never really showed it. So it wasn't her continued affection he desired. No, he wanted her. He wanted to run his calloused fingers through her voluminous curls, he wanted to listen to her babble on for hours about some random boring topic, he wanted to hold her and sleep next to her like they had done in his office. For the first time in his life, he wasn't striving to possess a woman but rather to give himself to her – and it was driving him absolutely insane. Even forgetting the fact that she was his pupil and personal apprentice, those feelings still managed to make him feel vulnerable and weak.

The half-blood sighed before stepping out of the shower and drying himself off with a towel. He took his time with the rest of his morning routine, but it didn't take long before he found himself in the Potions classroom, surrounded by an annoying, hyperactive flock of second-years. And unfortunately, it seemed to only take a blink of an eye before those young students were then soon replaced by the seventh-years – with Hermione Granger being on time for the first time in weeks.

Severus noticed her presence instantly. She looked the same as always – her brown mane was pulled back into a classic Dutch braid, and her spick and span uniform was topped off with her polished Head Girl badge – yet somehow, the sight of her gave him an armada of butterflies in his stomach. She must have noticed his intense gaze, too; as she gave him a quick but radiant smile before hurrying to her usual seat in the front row. He would have lied if he had said that that small gesture didn't make his dark heart jump a little.

Staggered by his inner turmoil, the professor frowned as he waited for the class to settle down. As soon as the last chitchat faded away, he briskly made his way towards the front of the classroom. Lightly tapping his wand against the black board, a dozen or so rows of brewing instructions appeared.

"Today –"

He let out a small cough, trying to get rid of that sudden lump in his throat.

"Today, you will be brewing Doxycide. Now, as you all surely are aware, this specific potion has the purpose of temporarily stunning Doxies. These fairy-like creatures are common household pests, so this remedy will likely prove useful to each and every one of you at some point. As anyone with even just a handful of braincells would know, these beasts are –"

The Gryffindor's eyes were following his every move, and he was uncomfortably aware of that. They seemed to burn through his skin right into his soul.

"Um … bad."

The little slip-up had an instant impact. There was immediate commotion, with loud chatter practically bouncing between the heads of shocked teenagers, and Severus' eyes grew big as he unsuccessfully tried to mask his own surprise – never in his entire career as a teacher had he ever tripped over his own tongue like this before!

Not having the slightest clue how to handle this most unprecedented situation, he simply muttered a quick "The required ingredients can be found in the supply cupboard. You may get started." before disappearing into his office, his long black robes whirling up around him as he did so.

* * *

Snape waited an extra ten minutes following the chime of the old Clock Tower before finally emerging from his hiding place, making certain to give the students enough time to finish up their potions, clean their workspaces and leave.

As he re-entered the dark teaching lab, he scrunched up his large nose at the foul smell of Doxycide; while he'd become inured to most unpleasant smells over the years, he for some reason still could barely stand the solution's disgusting stench. Nonetheless, he marched to his desk and was just about to sit down and organise the countless parchment rolls spread across the table when a soft voice suddenly caressed his ears.

"Professor Snape?"

Startled, he spun around. Standing on the doorstep, there was Granger. Her heavy book bag swinging from her delicate shoulders, she was holding another three or four books in her arms. Over the course of the lesson, some of her locks had become undone and were now framing her freckled face nicely.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir! I didn't mean to take you by surprise!" Biting her bottom lip, she gave him a quick grin.

"Miss Granger, I …" Severus was at a loss for words. Trying hard to ignore his beating heart, he was frantically searching for something, anything to say. Never before had he struggled for words like this in front of a student.

When he didn't continue, Granger stepped into the room and said, "Oh, well, I apologise for ambushing you like this, but after what happened last Friday, I really feel like we should talk."

"Fuck!" Severus thought panicked. "Now she will accuse me of being a bloody pervert! What kind of teacher falls asleep hugging a student, anyways?! You really should have known better, Severus! She has probably already reported you to that duffer of a headmaster and demanded to switch apprenticeships! Hell, the whole school likely already knows about that little slumber party, what were you –"

"Thank you."

Snape was completely taken aback. "Wh-what?"

Her rosy cheeks became even redder. "I would like to thank you, sir. What you did for me was more than kind. The way you defended and comforted me … I cannot express my appreciation enough." She flashed him another shy smile. "Oh, and also thank you for sending that house elf up to my rooms with my belongings after I ran off. That was very thoughtful of you."

Severus could only stare at her, his mouth slightly agape. "So … you are not going to switch to another professor?" he asked meekly, the disbelief in his voice clearly audible.

Granger laughed nervously. "No, of course not," she answered as she fiddled with the cuticle of her right middle finger. Furling her eyebrows, her gaze then wandered to the floor. "If anything, I'm here to apologise for my behaviour over the past couple of weeks. I just … overreacted, I guess."

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, during which the flustered wizard did not allow himself to breathe. Could it really be that she was grateful for his actions? Perhaps she didn't dislike him after all? While he would never – could never – permit himself to give into his irrational emotions, Severus let himself believe for just a split second that maybe, just maybe, the two of them could become something like friends instead.

_Don't be stupid! She may not hate you, but she still thinks of you as nothing more than an old, crusty codger._

Or did she? Helplessly overwhelmed by his inner conflict, he simply had to know the witch's true feelings. Meeting her hazel eyes with his, Severus silently and effortlessly delved into Granger's smart mind. As soon as he entered, he was amazed – he had never encountered such an extraordinary brain before. He didn't have time to marvel at it, however, as he was in a hurry to search for any thoughts concerning his person before the Muggle-born would notice his presence inside her head.

Once he found them, however, he was stunned – there was not the least bit of hatred or disgust. Instead, Severus was rushing through a vortex of muddled memories.

First, he found himself in his own classroom more than six years ago, watching a slightly younger version of himself hold his typical introductory speech in front of a bunch of bright-faced 11-year-old Slytherins and Gryffindors. Looking around, he soon spotted a familiar bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl. Concentrating on her, he was able to feel the astonishment and admiration radiating from her.

The next memory seemed to be a couple of years younger, located yet again in the dungeon classroom. He saw himself aiding to a hurt Neville Longbottom lying on the ground after what seemed to have been another botched brewing attempt. Standing amongst the crowd of students gathered around the scene, a fourth-year Hermione Granger was looking at the two of them with both worry and fondness in her eyes. To Severus' surprise, the latter seemed to be directed at both of them equally. He didn't have a lot of time to process this, however, as the image promptly vanished before his own eyes.

The last distinct memory was only a few months old, taking place in a little suburban town somewhere in Muggle England. A casually dressed Granger was sitting on a small twin bed situated in what he suspected to be her bedroom. He raised an eyebrow at the various shades of green that the room was arranged in before stepping closer to the young woman. She was presently bend over a piece of parchment paper, and upon closer inspection, he realised that it was a letter from Hogwarts – an application for the apprenticeship programme, to be more exact. He watched as she used a small beige-coloured quill to fill in _Professor Severus Snape_ next to the words _Desired Tutor_. Looking at her bare, makeup-free face, his breath was taken away when he saw her grin broadly, seemingly filled with excitement. Astonished, Severus slipped back into reality.

"Is everything okay, sir?" Granger asked with obvious concern in her voice, blissfully unaware that her privacy had just been invaded.

Snape gulped. "Yes, Miss Granger. Everything is quite alright."

And when the girl smiled at him this time, he couldn't help but smirk back at her. Perhaps they could become friends, after all.


	13. Dressed-Up Figures and Undressed Souls

**Chapter 13: Dressed-Up Figures and Undressed Souls**

The remainder of the month went by in a breeze, and looking back, the Potions professor realised that it had been the happiest time of his life.

Severus still felt uneasy about his feelings towards Granger, of course; so much so that he even promised it to himself to never act on them. Quickly backpaddling on the thought that the two of them could become friends – after all, a teacher and a student becoming too close would always be weird, no matter the circumstances – he instead decided to quietly admire his beloved from afar. In a bid to distance himself from her and her enticing charms, he restricted their private lessons to the two mandatory sessions a week and made sure to drop a snide remark here and there – though they somehow never seemed as harsh anymore. It did not help, however, that the young woman seemed unfazed by all of that; she would still always show up to their meetings beaming at the Potions Master's face.

So at the end of the day, he still could not help but experience almost juvenile-like euphoria. She liked him, too! Granted, she was not in love with him or anything, but indeed just the fact that his new object of affection liked him on a platonic level made Severus feel all kinds of ways. As a result, his behaviour seemed to change. Although he tried his best to behave like his normal mean self, he would sometimes suddenly find himself softly humming as he made his way through the castle's countless corridors, and every once in a while, he would even accidentally chuckle at some of his colleagues' lousy attempts at jokes over dinner. He also caught himself daydreaming about the Gryffindor more frequently, but he did not mind it that much anymore. Instead, he chose to quietly enjoy all of these new-found emotions.

As for Granger, well, she was back to her bubbly, know-it-all self. She had quickly begun to show up for class on time again, handing in excellent essays and fiercely waving her hand around trying to be "the chosen one" who got to answer questions. That behaviour also extended to their apprenticeship lessons, with her bombarding her tutor with countless questions about this and that, attempting to extract every single bit of knowledge, howsoever small, from the talented wizard's mind. Severus could not help but be a tad bit amused by her eagerness to learn. He was still trying to maintain his reputation as the snarky, greasy-haired git of the dungeons, of course; so on the rare occasions when he actually answered one of her questions, he would do so in his typical scoffing fashion. In reality, however, he was delighted by their relatively one-sided conversations. He was utterly fascinated by the way her mind appeared to work as well as the huge range of topics in which she took an interest. After years of unsuccessfully searching for a suitable conversational partner with which to have intellectually stimulating discussions, he had finally found one – and in a member of the idiotic trio at that!

A few weeks ago, they had even taught their first class together. Severus had to admit that he had been sceptical at first about that part of the apprenticeship programme; however, Granger had done surprisingly well. Having come in prepared with a perfectly outlined lesson plan, she had no trouble properly instructing a group of second-years on how to brew the Fire Protection Potion. A nice and helpful teacher, her presence had seemed to make the pupils breathe a little easier in what is otherwise a rather strict class; some had even managed to create potions that were noticeably better than any others they'd handed in before. Though this of course did not mean that Severus planned on making any permanent changes to his personal style of teaching. The reason behind his sternness was completely logical: Unruliness had absolutely no place in his classroom, as safety always came first in a potions lab!

On one particular Thursday – the day before Halloween to be exact – the Head of Slytherin found himself in the dimly lit Potions classroom, brewing yet another one of Madam Pomfrey's last-minute orders; unfortunately, the matron had apparently not taken to heart his elaborate lecture about ordering often-needed potions well in advance. Working side by side with his apprentice, they were preparing a batch of Antidote to Common Poisons and a few phials of Laxative Potion respectively.

Just as Severus was rummaging through his storage room in the search for some lavender essence, he heard his student speak up.

"While everyone knows that the headmaster is a – for the lack of a better word – _special_ character, I must say that I'm still a bit dumfounded by this announcement," her melodic voice resonated from the ancient stone walls. "Having spent the better part of my childhood in the Muggle world, I am obviously familiar with the practice. But all those scary things, those creatures that Muggles dress up as – most of them actually exist in the wizarding world! So why should we magic folk put on costumes like that? I just find it quite bizarre and …"

Finally having found the little ampoule for which he had been searching, Severus returned to his workstation as Granger continued to ramble on and on. He obviously knew what she was talking about. Just this morning at breakfast, Dumbledore had suddenly announced that this year's Hallowe'en Feast would come with a little twist: It would be a fancy-dress party Muggle style, and everyone attending was expected to show up wearing a costume. Snape groaned at the mere thought of it. This year, the old man was just implementing one silly rule after another. Sometimes, the half-blood believed that the headmaster came up with all of his crazy antics with the sole purpose of annoying his younger colleague.

"Anyway," the witch said, at last concluding her babbling. "What are you going as?"

Severus, who was in the process of measuring out the correct amount of Honeywater for his potion, stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the young woman with a stone-cold expression.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked snappishly.

His protégée's hazel eyes turned big. "Oh, um, I'm talking about the Hallowe'en Feast, sir," she stuttered rather sheepishly. "I was just wondering what your costume will be."

"Costume? Miss Granger, am I really to believe that you would be stupid enough to assume that I, Severus Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin, would take part in such a ridiculous display of foolishness?!"

He could practically see her confidence crumble before his very eyes, and he would have lied if he said that that did not make him feel a tiny bit bad. After hectically searching for something to say for a few moments, she dropped her gaze.

"Of course not," she then mumbled. "My apologies …"

Granger quickly turned her attention back to her project, and so Snape did the same, trying hard to ignore that slight sting he felt in his chest.

For a while, they worked in silence. Once he finished his potion, Severus began looking for the little piece of parchment paper on which Poppy had written her order, wanting to double check if he had prepared the correct amount. Following a minute-long search, he finally found it on Granger's side of the desk. When he went to pick it up, however, he noticed a strange, scarlet red dot on it.

Confused, he turned to face his apprentice, intending to ask her about it, when he noticed what appeared to be a fair amount of blood smeared all across the girl's chin and lips. While he had long ago taken note of her tendency to subconsciously bite her lips whenever she was anxious or scared, he had never seen it get so bad to the point that she would make herself bleed like that. Severus could not help but feel guilty about this; it had to have been his unkind reply which had caused it.

"Miss Granger," he muttered softly. When she looked up in surprise, he handed her the white handkerchief he always carried in the left pocket of his cloak. "You are bleeding."

He watched as she hastily brought up her right hand to her face and then stared in disbelief at the shiny red liquid which now covered her fingertips.

Not giving her a chance to speak, he said, "When I was just a mere child growing up in Muggle England, Halloween was not yet what it is today. It did exist, yes, but the act of dressing up and having little get-togethers was not as wide-spread yet."

Walking past her to the table, Snape picked up a small, clean blade and started cutting a few sprouts of Agrimonia into small pieces.

"However, I do distinctly recall one time when the town I was living in announced that it would host a celebration in the community centre, complete with costumes and all kinds of entertaining activities. Rather untypical for that dirty hellhole, really …" He sighed. "So I spent the whole day getting ready, gathering supplies for my costume from all around the house and borrowing some of my mother's makeup. After hours of work, I had finally finished creating my ensemble and was about to leave, excited for the hours of fun to come, when my father came home from a day at the bar."

He looked up, meeting the gaze of his student. Her expression had confusion written all over it.

"My father was not a kind man, Miss Granger. I am afraid that I take after him quite a lot when it comes to having anger issues." His lips formed a thin line. "He was especially not fond of anything magical. He despised my mother and I for our abilities, calling us freaks, monstrosities. When he saw that I was dressed up as a wizard, he lost it. He tore apart my carefully crafted costume before my very eyes, and that night, I received the worst beating of my life as my mother just passively watched. It was so bad that I was not able to go to school for two weeks afterward."

Granger gasped in shock. "That's terrible! I –, I … I am so sorry, sir." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and Severus thought that he could see tears forming in her eyes.

He waved off her concern with a simple gesture of the hand. "That was a long time ago, Miss Granger," he said seemingly nonchalantly, but his trembling hands gave him away as he added the shredded plant to the cauldron in front of him.

"However, I do feel like it is understandable that ever since that day, I have taken a dislike to this particular festivity." Of course, that was only half of it – but he did not think it appropriate to disclose the trauma connected to the murder of his childhood love. "And while being one of the teachers at this school has made me feel compelled to take part in the yearly feast thus far, I have decided to allow myself to refrain from participating this time."

What followed was silence. While the seventh-year was evidently at a loss for words, Snape continued to diligently prepare the green-coloured potion. He knew that he probably should not have shared such private information with her. But for some reason, it was just so easy to open up to her, to share his painful memories with her.

It was only after he had finished the magical concoction and went to grab a box of crystalline phials for bottling that Granger said, "It's certainly not my place to speak of your awful experiences or offer any solutions, sir. But perhaps tomorrow is your one chance to regain the experience you were so wrongfully robbed of."

Not knowing what to answer, Severus remained quiet.

* * *

Even though it was now her seventh time experiencing the event, Hermione still could not help but be amazed as she entered the Great Hall.

Like every year, the huge room had been decorated in great detail for the Hallowe'en Feast. A few dozen black cauldrons stuffed with gigantic lollipops as well as large pumpkins, some filled with candy and others with candles, were distributed throughout the hall. Looking up at the Enchanted Ceiling, she could see the dark night sky with seemingly endless stars sparkling in the distance. Flying in and out of low-hanging black clouds, both live bats as well as flaming orange streamers were swooping over the long tables which were filled with sheer massive amounts of food and drinks: devilled eggs and butternut squash soup, candy apples and carrot cake, butterbeer and gillywater, roasted turkey legs and fish pie. There was even an apple bobbing station in one corner.

However, the one thing which stood out the most was admittedly the people's attire. Students and staff alike were dressed in various costumes, some magical and some obviously Muggle-made. In a sea of creepy clowns and heavily made-up princesses, Hermione was able to spot Lavender Brown standing in a secluded nock, dressed as a gigantic pink and baby blue cupcake, flirting with a sixth-year Hufflepuff boy wearing a cheap one-piece skeleton suit. Sitting at the edge of the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy could be seen in an exquisite Victorian-era gown, appearing to be disgusted with the way his two friends Crabbe and Goyle, who were dressed as a mummy and a pirate respectively, were stuffing their faces with black pudding, roasted potatoes and mince pie.

Making her way to the Gryffindor table, Hermione made sure to say hello to Luna Lovegood as she walked past her. The eccentric witch was wearing an unidentifiable mixture of different patterned scraps of cloths paired with a wide array of flashy accessories, which was probably meant to represent some strange creature of which no one but her had ever heard. After fighting her way through the sizeable crowd, the Head Girl then finally reached her friends.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, waving his fork, and the piece of Beef Wellington impaled on it, at her. He was dressed in an Auror uniform. "You look smokin' hot! You're a sexy kitten or what?"

He flashed her a crooked smile, but she merely cringed at his lousy and rather vulgar attempt at flirting – it seemed as though he still had not got the memo that she just was not interested in him that way.

But it was in fact true that she was dressed as a cat. After taking the longest time deciding on a costume, Hermione had spent the better part of her afternoon getting ready for the feast. Throwing her outfit together from scratch, she had put on a tight-fitting, long-sleeved bodysuit and paired it with fishnet stockings and a pair of high-waisted faux leather shorts – all in black, of course. She had then used her magic skills to transfigure a pair of fuzzy socks into a headband with feline ears, followed by turning an old scarf into a tail. To top off her outfit, she had added a black lace-trimmed collar as well as high-heeled over-the-knee boots. Her makeup was kept simple, with only some basic pencil eyeliner strokes across her face to mimic a cat's primary features, and as for her hair, well, she had just let it do its own wild thing. Granted, the outfit she was wearing was a lot more revealing than what Hermione would normally go for, but for some reason, she did not care that night. She thought that her look was fierce, and it made her feel powerful somehow.

Ignoring her pasty-skinned friend's goggling eyes, she smiled at the couple seated next to him. Harry was dressed as a noble king, cheap plastic crown and all, and Ginny, who was sitting on his lap, was wearing a scarecrow costume. She greeted them, and they all chatted for a bit, but for some reason, something appeared a bit off with her best friend; the redhead seemed somewhat distracted. Not wanting to make a scene in front of everybody, Hermione made a mental note to ask her about it later. She was used to Harry being morose around this time of year, but seeing Ginny that unusually quiet set off red flags in her mind.

Turning her attention to the table filled with all kinds of tasty dishes, her mouth started to water. Before she helped herself to anything, however, she cast a glance at the High Table. A quick scan of the people seated at it later, she had to suppress her laughter. Sitting on the large golden chair in the middle, Professor Dumbledore instantly stood out in what was apparently a life-size replica of his favourite candy, sherbet lemon. Next to the headmaster, Professor McGonagall was sporting a kind of toned-down, more age-appropriate Snow White costume, which made her look surprisingly adorable. Professor Vector and Professor Babbling were both dressed up as Cleopatra, Madam Hooch had put on her favourite Quidditch team's uniform, and Professor Sprout was – surprise, surprise – some sort of plant. A zombie Professor Flitwick could be seen conversing with Professor Sinistra, who was wearing a stripped burglar costume, and Hagrid was dressed in a painfully small Popeye costume. Professor Trelawney was a mouse, Professor Burbage resembled a gumdrop machine for some reason, and Lupin depicted a dog – that last one made her giggle yet again. The only one without a costume was Professor Binns, though that seemed obvious, given his ghost body.

Merely one person was missing: the Potions Master. Hermione could not help but feel a little bit disappointed. She had known that he probably would not show up, but she had still allowed herself to have some hope.

The young woman spent the next hour or so devouring Hogwarts' finest foods while conversing and laughing with her housemates, almost forgetting about her tutor's absence from the feast. Finally leaning back with a full stomach, she stuck her hands in the pockets of her shorts.

"What the –"

Stunned, she pulled out a tiny, folded piece of paper which had definitely not been there at the beginning of the night. Opening it under the table, out of view from her seatmates, she read the short note.

_Entrance hall, now._

Hermione instantly knew whose meticulous handwriting that was. She had to give it to him, sneaking a message into the very clothing she was wearing without her noticing required skill, and she was definitely impressed. Excusing herself from the table under the pretence of having to use the bathroom, she quickly left the room through the tall double doors, forcing them apart just wide enough for her to slip through.

Once in the Front Hall, she glanced around but saw no one. Taking one more step into the room, she sharply jolted when she suddenly caught movement out of the corner of her eyes. She whipped around just in time to witness the Potions professor emerge from behind the Slytherin house point hourglass. Looking at his oval face, she could have sworn that she saw his eyes widen for a second as they wandered across her body.

"Professor Snape," she said, a bit out of breath.

"Miss Granger, you are … a cat?" She could hear the clear disbelief in his voice, and for some reason, that made her snigger.

"Well yes, sir, it's my costume!" She frowned as she eyed his attire. "But I can see that you stuck with your decision not to dress up."

"That is not entirely true."

Her eyebrows knitted in bemusement. "I don't think I understand. You look the same as you always do."

She could see him take a deep breath, almost as if he were psyching himself up, before he did something that she was sure no one had ever seen him do: He flashed her a big smile.

Hermione let out an audible gasp of astonishment. At first, she was too shocked to do anything but stare directly at him. Professor Snape's smile seemed a bit unnatural and more or less forced, but she still had to admit that it made him look a lot younger and less stern. That in turn made something unfamiliar stir deep inside her, but she chose to ignore that for now.

It was only after a few moments that she noticed something odd about his teeth. His two upper incisors seemed a bit out of place. They were quite long, almost as if they were fangs. Combined with his long, dark robes, that kind of made him look like a –

"You're dressed as a vampire!" she spat out, positively flabbergasted. When he gave an affirmative nod, she felt a rush of excitement travel through her entire body. He had actually done it! Severus Snape had dressed up at her suggestion!

Hermione knew that she was about to push her luck hard, but she was simply so overjoyed that she could not possibly control her emotions. With one big leap, she closed the distance between them and threw her arms around her teacher.

"Happy Halloween, Professor!" she rejoiced as she buried her face in the black fabric covering his broad chest.

* * *

He could feel the warmth radiating from her body which was tightly pressed against his. He could smell the fruity scent of her favourite shampoo coming from her voluminous locks as they tickled his beaked nose. He could hear her slightly accelerated breathing, his arms wrapped around her torso rising just a little at every breath. He could see a small birthmark, so tiny that it was almost invisible, situated at the nape of her neck. And for just a moment, he allowed himself to melt into her hug, his eyes closed shut.

Severus Snape was doomed, and he knew it. But in that exact moment, he did not care one bit.


	14. Can You Keep A Secret, Professor?

**Chapter 14: Can You Keep A Secret, Professor?**

It was late at night, and Severus was in a truly splendid mood as he made his way through one of the school's deserted corridors.

Just a few hours earlier, his house's Quidditch team had absolutely smashed those stupid little Gryffindors he despised so much. 60 to 190 points – he still marvelled at that superb score. Finally, after all those years, his beloved Slytherins were again on their way to take home Hogwarts' Inter-House Quidditch Cup! He could not help but smirk as he thought of the shocked expression on Potter's face when Draco Malfoy had caught the Snitch right before the Chosen One's eyes. After the game, the Potions Master had then spent the rest of his night harvesting Sopophorous beans from his secret acreage hidden deep within the Forbidden Forest and was now on his way back to his chambers. Ah yes, today had been a good day!

Snape was just about to turn the corner when he heard the unmistakable creak of a heavy door echoing through the nocturnal quiet. Maybe it was a remnant of his spying days or maybe it was the teacher in him evermore prepared to catch some unsuspecting students breaking the rules, but he immediately stopped dead in his tracks and squeezed his body against the wall before risking a stealthy look into the corridor to his right.

At first, he could not see much as the light coming through an open door situated a mere few metres in front of his position was simply too bright; it took his eyes a second or two to adjust. It was only then that he realised he was looking at the entrance to the Hospital Wing. Funny – he hadn't even noticed that he had wandered into the Hospital Tower. But maybe that should not have come as a surprise, considering how much his mind had been all over the place lately.

Turning his attention back to the scene before him, he could make out a person looking suspiciously similar to Madam Pomfrey standing in the doorway, evidently speaking with someone out of his sight. The wizard's brows puckered. Normally, Poppy had a zero-tolerance policy when it came to her sleeping schedule; one that she defended with all kinds of nasty hexes, as he himself had had to experience first-hand. The only exception, of course, was in cases of emergency; but in that instance, every one of the school's teachers would have been informed. And Severus knew for a fact that Albus' Patronus would have easily found him no matter where he had been, even deep down in the woods.

Trying to get a better look, he scooted a bit closer, making sure not to step out of the protective cover provided by the nighttime shadows, just as the matron moved aside to let her conversation partner exit the room. To say that he was surprised when he saw Granger set foot in the dark corridor would have been an understatement.

He had not seen her since they had shared that quick hug in the Entrance Hall; as far as he was aware, she had not even attended the game earlier. Presently, she was dressed in what seemed to be a light grey bathrobe over a pair of red plaid cotton pyjamas, with her hair pulled into a messy ponytail at the nape of her neck – certainly a drastic difference to the risky Halloween costume she had worn just a few days earlier.

Severus watched as the Gryffindor exchanged a few more unintelligible words with the elderly healer before turning around and walking off into the direction of the Grand Staircase, her cloth slippers audibly dragging across the stone floor. He waited until the door to the infirmary had been pulled shut before moving to stealthily follow her. The thoughts in his head were running wild. Why had she been there, at this time of night at that?! Had she somehow gotten injured? Had she contracted some sort of disease? Panic already arousing in him, Snape forced himself to calm down. No, he would have been told if his personal apprentice had become sick or gotten hurt. Also, he knew that Poppy would never discharge a patient in the middle of the night. So what was really going on?

The strides of his long legs great, he was quick to catch up to her petite figure.

"Miss Granger," he growled, causing the witch to jump in surprise. "What were you doing in the Hospital Wing at this hour? It is almost one o'clock in the morning, so you are not only outside of visiting hours but also past curfew!"

"Merlin, keep your voice down or someone will hear you!"

Severus did not even have enough time to get angry about being shushed by a student – or to blush at his new love interest tightly gripping his arm – before Granger pulled him into the nearest empty classroom. Pulling out her wand, she quickly locked the door and cast a privacy charm before turning around to face him.

"My apologies, sir." She regarded him with a slight frown on her face. "But I simply could not risk anyone eavesdropping on us."

"I demand to know the meaning of this right now, Miss Granger!" snarled Snape.

After giving him a long and calculated look, the young woman tilted her head as she asked, "Can you keep a secret, Professor?"

"Keep a secret?" He almost felt as though he had just been insulted. "I was a Death Eater and a double agent for longer than you have been alive, you foolish girl!"

Granger ignored his little emotional outburst. "I will take that as a yes." She walked over to one of the wooden tables in the front row and leant against it. "My visit to the infirmary did not concern myself."

Severus just glared at her, waiting for her to continue.

"Rather, I was there to act as a sort of moral support for Ginny."

"Miss Weasley." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes," she confirmed nonetheless. "I'm sure that you noticed her absence at today's game. You see, her and Harry have been an item for a while now. But it seems as though they recently had a little mishap."

The Potions professor was growing more and more impatient. Potter and anything concerning him was one of his least favourite subjects.

"A mishap of what sort?" he pressed her.

"Well …" Seemingly searching for the right words, Snape thought that he could see her face turn red a little. "A mishap as they became more intimate. Carelessness in the heat of passion, if you will."

Snape's eyes turned big and he could feel a burning sensation starting to spread in his cheeks.

"You mean …" He could not even bring himself to say it.

Granger nodded. "Ginny got pregnant. She obviously freaked out, not knowing what to do. So after she confided in me, I set up a secret appointment with Madam Pomfrey."

She did not elaborate further, looking at him as though he should know where the story was going. But after a few seconds of Severus just staring back at her blankly, she finally lost her patience.

"The pregnancy was terminated."

"WHAT?"

Granger simply rolled her eyes. "Come on, Professor! Don't act like you aren't aware that things like this happen at our school all the time. Every year, there's at least half a dozen of girls seeking Madam Pomfrey's assistance in such matters."

"No, I did not know that!" he barked back. "What do the girl's parents have to say to all of this? And Potter?!"

She offered him a sad smile. "He doesn't know."

"What?!" he exclaimed appalled. "How could that idiot not know he impregnated a fellow student?"

"Ginny just never told him. I advised her to do so, of course; but she didn't want to. And at the end of the day, it's her body and her choice. All I can do is be there for her as a friend." She crossed her arms. "It's probably for the best anyway. Harry would have tried to convince her to continue with the pregnancy for sure, and they're just not ready for that kind of responsibility. I mean, neither of them has even finished their education yet! And while Harry might have brought about Voldemort's downfall, he cannot even keep up with his schoolwork, let alone take care of a child."

Severus was taken aback by the maturity in her voice. "She is probably right," he thought. He did not even want to imagine having to deal with another Potter brat in eleven years' time; just the idea of it made him shudder. Still, the thought of two students being sexually active made him highly uncomfortable somehow. Ironic, considering his own current emotional state.

"And so that's the reason why I was in the Hospital Wing," he could hear the brunette conclude.

"Very well." He let out an audible sigh. "10 points from Gryffindor."

"Excuse me?!" she bellowed.

"Miss Granger, as the school's Head Girl, you should lead by example. Wandering around the castle after curfew is a punishable offence." He smirked. "Regardless of the circumstances."

It was painfully obvious that that was an attempt at lightening the mood, and the brightest witch of her age threw her hands up in frustration.

"You really are something, Professor Snape! I guess I better get going before you deduct even more points – for ridiculous reasons, I might add!"

She removed her magical guards and made for the door.

"One last thing, Miss Granger."

A head of full brown locks turned to him. "Yes?"

Severus regarded her quizzically. "Why would you tell me such damning information willingly?"

"Oh, I don't believe you would ever tell, sir. You would have to admit to having conversations with your apprentice in private, after all."

And with one last cheeky grin, she disappeared into the night.


	15. Where Your Priorities Lie

**Chapter 15: Where Your Priorities Lie**

"All I am saying is that I really don't think you should be too hard on her, sir. She's still struggling with being so far away from her family for the majority of the year," Granger said as the pair made their way up one of the narrow staircases connecting the remote dungeons to the rest of the castle. "She's very sensitive, you know."

Severus snorted at her defence of the Hufflepuff student; she certainly took her job as Head Girl just too seriously sometimes.

"I do believe that this is Miss Zeller's third year at this school now. Sensitive or not," he spat the word out with some disgust. "It is about time that she gets a hold of herself. I already expect nothing from her, and yet she still somehow manages to disappoint me every single time that she enters my classroom."

The witch shook her head in disagreement as she gave him a disapproving look, but Severus thought that he could see the corners of her mouth lift a little.

Reaching the Grand Staircase, their conversation shifted to something more academic: an interesting _Potions Weekly_ article they'd both read. It really seemed as though the ice between the teacher and his student had broken even more ever since their little nighttime encounter in front of the Hospital Wing. Over the past two weeks, Granger had ventured into the dark depths of the dungeons on a daily basis; once or twice, she had even gone two times in a single day. Splitting their time between Snape's office and the Potions classroom, the two masterminds had prepared assignments, maintained Poppy's ever-dwindling medicine stock and even discussed the wizarding world's newest scientific achievements here and there. Whenever there'd been time, Severus had tried to quench his apprentice's thirst for knowledge by teaching her about exotic potions that were way too complex to even be mentioned on the regular Hogwarts syllabus. And while he had been trying hard to keep up his guard in front of his inamorata, Granger had slowly started to share more and more personal details of her life during each exchange – like the time she had opened up about the pressure put on her from a very young age by her dentist parents to live the healthiest lifestyle possible. "Can you believe that I never had a bite of chocolate before my very first ride on the Hogwarts Express? That was the first time that I'd ever been without their supervision. I felt like I had committed a criminal act!"

Deeply engaged in their discussion about a particularly fascinating part of the article, the both of them startled in unison when the large, old door leading to the Great Hall suddenly swung open just a few feet ahead of them. Out came three familiar figures: A tall and lanky freckled ginger and another slightly smaller boy with untidy jet-black hair who had his arm slung loosely around the shoulders of a thin redhead.

"Oh!" Granger let out a small gasp as she recognised her peers. "I'm sorry, Professor, but I need to go now. I think that I'll spent the evening studying since I have the feeling that there is going to be a surprise quiz tomorrow in Charms; but I'll try to stop by in the morning before breakfast to drop off those essays I corrected last week, if that would be all right?"

All Severus could do was to give her a curt nod before he watched her run off after her idiotic friends.

* * *

"Hey, you guys! Wait up!"

Hermione greeted her fellow Gryffindors with a big smile when they finally turned around to face her. With a few more bounding strides, she caught up to them.

"Where are you going? I thought that we were having lunch together today." It took her a moment to catch her breath. "You know, I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!"

Instead of a response, all she was met with were three blank stares. After several excruciatingly long seconds of awkward silence, it was Harry who spoke up first.

"Hermione, lunch ended ten minutes ago. We waited over an hour for you," he said softly.

"What?!" It only took the brunette one quick look at her trusty wristwatch to realise that he was right. "Merlin, I am so sorry! I didn't notice that it's already this late …" she muttered perplexed.

"This is the fourth time you have stood us up now!" snapped Ron, his ears turning red. "What were you even doing that's more important than your own friends?"

"Professor Snape and I were just finishing up some potions to use in a demonstration for the second-years on Friday. I'm really so sorry, I didn't think it would take this long!"

"Hermione, you've been spending an awful lot of time down there with that git lately," Ginny said with a slight pout on her face. "We barely get to see you anymore."

"Well, I guess it's true that the apprenticeship is taking up a lot of my time and energy at the moment. Together with my duties as Head Girl, I –"

"It just feels like you care a lot more about Snape and his stupid potions than you do about us," Ron interrupted her, his lips nothing but a thin line.

Hermione looked absolutely baffled. "But that's not true! I love you guys, and you know that! I admit that perhaps I've been spending a little bit too much time with Professor Snape as part of my studies, but I have just been … I guess I didn't realise that –"

"Yeah, you didn't realise, just like you never do. With you, it's always just books and grades." The youngest Weasley boy snorted. "Let's go!" he then gestured to the other two to follow him as he stormed off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

Ginny did not even say a single word before turning to follow her older brother, her gaze pinned to the floor. Harry, however, gave his best friend a quick shoulder squeeze paired with an empathetic look before running off as well.

Before she knew it, Hermione was all alone. Still somewhat in a state of shock, her bottom lip began to quiver, and it looked like she was holding back tears as she too wandered off, most likely to seclude herself in the library, entirely unaware that a pair of dark eyes was following her.


End file.
